The Life He Should Know
by NJ Coffee Queen
Summary: After a Ministry experiment gone wrong, Draco Malfoy wakes up believing he's 18 again. With six years of his life gone, will the missing pieces ever fill in?
1. Chapter 1

New story! As usual, I own nothing. Oh, except the Healer in the chapter. Yay, I own something!

* * *

Chapter 1  
Machines beeped as Draco Malfoy opened his eyes. The fluorescent lights overhead blinded him, and so he quickly closed them again. There was a stiffness in his limbs as he attempted to sit up. It hurt too much to move, and even a small amount of exertion left him tired. Blinking slowly, he made another attempt to open his eyes. Despite having to squint, he managed to keep them open long enough to survey his surroundings.

The beeping finally made sense. He was in the hospital; a private room by the looks of it. Looking down, Draco noticed the wires and tubes that connected him to a variety of machinery. The beeping, he deduced, was the heart monitor to the right of the bed on which he lay. It hurt, but he eventually lifted his hand. He tested his fingers, wiggling them as best he could.

The door to his room opened and a young woman dressed in white entered. She wore the familiar Healer garb, but she looked far too young to hold such a prestigious position. The closer she got, the more nervous he became. "Mr. Malfoy, good to see you awake," she said in a soft voice. "I'm Healer Jensen, and I've been treating you this past month."

A month? Why had he been in the hospital for a month, he wondered. He opened his mouth to ask what had happened, but he found it hard to speak. "Water," was the one word he managed to get out. The Healer nodded and swiftly filled a cup with water. She instructed him to drink slowly, but his throat was so parched he couldn't stop himself from downing the refreshing liquid as quickly as possible. He choked and sputtered for a while afterward, but eventually was able to breathe normally again.

"I told you to go slow," Healer Jensen chastised as she set the cup aside. Wand out, she began to examine him. Her hands moved to his head and began to circle it. It was then he realized it was bandaged with white gauze.

"What happened?" he managed to ask.

Jensen frowned and set her wand down on the nightstand beside the bed. She moved to sit at the foot of the bed and pulled off the black-frame glasses she wore. She looked much younger without the glasses, he decided. Her long blonde hair was twisted up and pulled back from her thin face. Her green eyes sparkled with an emotion he couldn't read. "We don't really know," she replied sadly. "You were brought in a month ago, unconscious. There were traces of magic on you, dark magic. You were bleeding from the back of your head. We're pretty sure you'd fallen and hit it. I was hoping you might be able to fill in the missing pieces."

Draco shook his head and stared at the window without really seeing what was out there. He had no answers to give. "Who brought me in?" he asked.

There was a rustling of paper before Jensen spoke again. "Blaise Zabini." He nodded slowly, wincing when it hurt to move his head too much. "Would you like us to inform him that you've awoken?"

"I guess," he mumbled. "And my parents too. They'll probably want to know."

The Healer furrowed her eyebrows, concerned by his request. "Mr. Malfoy, may I ask - what year is it?"

Without hesitation, he replied, "It's 1998."

A frown accompanied the knit brows. "What do you know about the war?" she inquired.

Draco wracked his mind for memories of the war. He remembered the siege of his ancestral home by Voldemort and his band of Death Eaters. He remembered his task to kill Professor Dumbledore, a task he could not make himself complete. Then, a year later, the Death Eaters invaded Hogwarts, and more hell had broken loose. His friends had died, but so had Voldemort at the wand of Harry Potter. His parents, though, were safe.

When he finished, he looked at her quizzically. She seemed far more worried now than she had when she first came in. "What?" he asked.

The young healer finished making a note in his chart before she spoke. "I'd like to keep you here a little while longer," she informed him. "Because of your...concussion, I'd like to have one of our psychiatric healers evaluate you."

He knew what that meant - she thought he was crazy. Instead of consenting, he turned his head back to the window. It wasn't long before he heard her shoes click on the linoleum floor, then the door to his room opened and closed. Now alone, he looked at the room. There were no cards, no tokens of love from friends and family. There was, however, a simple vase on the bedside table filled with sunflowers. His mother hated sunflowers.

There were voices in the hallway outside of his room. One he recognized as Healer Jensen, but the other he seemed unable to place. It was female, of that he was sure. She spoke through tears, distorting her voice.

"He thinks it's 1998," Jensen said. "Whatever spell was used on him, it's erased six years' worth of memories."

"Including me," the other voice replied. But who was it he was forgetting? "Is there anything you can do to reverse it?"

"We'll see in a few days," Jensen told her. "For now, it might not be a good idea to see him just yet."

"But he's my husband," the voice replied furiously. "Isn't it possible that seeing me could trigger something? His memories of the last six years, perhaps?"

Stunned by that revelation, Draco looked down at his hand for any evidence that this woman was telling the truth. There was no ring on his finger to confirm her claim. After all, he was only 18. He couldn't possibly be married.

"Mrs. Malfoy, please try to understand," Jensen implored. "He thinks he's still a teenager. Seeing you might not be as helpful as you think it is. It's a life we have to ease him back into slowly. Let the psychologist see him first."

Draco heard nothing else as he leaned back in bed. Awake for less than an hour, he was already exhausted. As he closed his eyes, he thought about the voice in the hall. He knew he should recognize it, that he had heard it so many times before. If only he could place her.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you all so, so, so much for the great response to chapter 1! Enjoy chapter 2! Oh, also, I wrote a Hunger Games story yesterday. Anyone interested in reading it?

* * *

Chapter 2  
Draco Malfoy.

Age 24.

Born June 5, 1980.

Husband.

Ministry of Magic employee.

The year is 2004.

That was all he knew about the life that he lived after the war ended and he awoke in St. Mungo's hospital one week earlier. He still had yet to meet his wife. His parents hadn't visited. Blaise had stopped by briefly the day before, and left as quickly as he could. His days were filled with healers and mediwitches and psychologists. The words "I don't know" left his mouth more than any others.

"Why can't I see her?" he demanded.

Jensen merely shook her head. "It's not safe yet."

"Safe for who?" he wondered. "You won't even tell me who she is! I don't know who my own wife is."

The blonde sighed. "We're not entirely convinced that you believe us when you tell you it isn't 1998," she replied. "No matter how many times Healer Collins has you write out your facts, _I'm_ not sure it isn't all an act to get out of here sooner."

She was right, and he knew that. But he wanted to leave. He wanted to go back to the safety and comfort of his home now that Voldemort no longer resided there. There was studying to be done for his NEWTS if the educational board allowed him to sit for them. After all, the war had cut short his seventh year. He had more important things to do than allow some crackpot healer to convince him that he was six years behind the rest of the world.

"Have you stopped to consider that this place isn't conducive to the recovery of my memories?" he inquired. "Perhaps someplace more familiar, or people I knew before I awoke would be more helpful than a sterile room with bad lighting and people I don't know."

Jensen sighed and leaned against the doorway. "Maybe you're right," she agreed. "But what happens when home isn't how you remember it?"

Draco shrugged indifferently because he knew she was wrong. Malfoy Manor was exactly as he left it. The place hadn't been changed in centuries except for minor repairs and updates. "Then it'll be different," he replied.

"And the people with whom you were once friends? What if they aren't your friends anymore?" she asked.

"Good riddance," he replied. "Most of them were lackeys and hangers on anyhow. I'd rather be rid of them."

Jensen grinned. "And what if the people who you once hated were now your friends?" she wondered.

Confusion replaced defiance. Could she possibly be talking about Harry Potter and his little band of followers? Draco shook his head. There was no chance he had befriended any of them. Potter had always been a nuisance, running free with no thought of the consequences because of his relationship with Headmaster Dumbledore. Too much bad blood existed between the Malfoys and Weasleys, and neither boy seemed interested in repairing relations. And then there was Hermione Granger. She was a swotty little know-it-all who induced migraines whenever she opened her mouth.

Finally he shook his head. "Not possible," he muttered.

"Okay, then," Jensen replied, but her grin unnerved him.

Clearly there was something she wasn't sharing with him. He wanted to push, wanted to know what she had meant. But before he could ask, she was excusing herself from his room. Struggling to his feet, Draco breathed heavily as he made his way to the door. He could hear voices speaking in the hallway, and recognized them as Jensen and the mystery woman from the day he had awoken.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Malfoy," Jensen said sincerely. "I'm just...not sure that coming here everyday is doing you any good."

"Has he made any progress at all?"

Where had he heard that voice before?

"Not much," the healer replied. "He's still stuck in the past. If there's anything you can tell us about the spell that hit him, it would be a great help."

There was silence as Draco pressed his ear closer to the door. This woman, this Mrs. Malfoy who was not his mother, could possibly hold all the answers. "Draco didn't talk much about his work," he heard her say.

"He was an Auror?" Jensen asked. That piqued Draco's attention.

"No, he worked in potions," the woman said.

"Potions?" Draco mumbled to himself. "Great, I grow up to be Snape."

"Perhaps one backfired?" Jensen suggested. There was no verbal response. "Well, I guess if you're up to it, perhaps today the two of you could see each other. The other healers and I don't seem to be getting through to him. But you're his wife, so maybe there's something you can do to help."

Draco's heart raced. He was finally going to meet this woman they all believed to be his wife. He backed away from the door and climbed back into bed. Any second now, Jensen would open the door and lead his wife into his hospital room. With the sheet and blanket pulled up to his waist, he waited with gray eyes trained on the door.

But it didn't open.

Why didn't it open?

He considered getting out of bed again to eavesdrop. One foot had slipped from beneath the blankets and was nearly on the floor when he heard two sets of footsteps near. He hurriedly arranged himself and turned to stare out the window as the door opened.

"Mr. Malfoy, you have a visitor," Healer Jensen announced. Over the pounding of his heart, he heard the door click shut. Only one person moved closer, but he still didn't have the nerve to turn and face his guest. A hand touched his shoulder, the coldness of it seeping through the thin material of his hospital gown. "Mr. Malfoy?"

Turn around, he ordered himself. Just turn your head and look at her.

He took a deep breath, in and out several times before his head slowly moved to face the other side of the room. His eyes seemed glued to the floor as he prepared himself for the sight of his...wife. His eyes travelled from her shoes to her legs to her slightly swollen abdomen. She was pregnant, he realized. When he heard her stifled sob, his eyes immediately snapped to her face.

Tired brown eyes caught his as she attempted to smile. Pressed to the door stood Hermione Granger, timid and unsure as she stared back at him.


	3. Chapter 3

I've been getting better about remembering to bring my lunch with me to work. Today, someone ate that lunch. So not cool, but maybe it's for the best after the way I pigged out this weekend. I'll just go to town on the basket of candy I keep on my desk. Oh yeah, I eat healthy.

* * *

Chapter 3  
"Granger?" he asked when he finally found his voice.

She seemed to debate remaining where she was and moving closer. If he was still the 18 year old boy who hated her, then her best bet was keeping her distance. "Hi," she replied in a small voice.

"I married Granger?" he asked Jensen, outraged by this turn of events. "Of all the useless little facts you've been trying to fill my head with for the last week, you fail to mention that I'm married to someone I hate?"

The blonde looked back and forth between the couple, dumbfounded by this outburst. "Hermione said things had gotten better between the two of you after the war," she said.

"She tried to kill me!" he shouted.

Jensen's head whipped around to the flabbergasted brunette. "Is that true?" she asked as calmly as possible.

Hermione shook her head. "No, I stopped Ron from trying to kill him before all hell broke loose in the Room of Requirement," she replied, her voice not yet much higher than a whisper. "He stopped his friends from killing me. There was no way I was going to kill him."

Draco clutched his head. "Liar!"

"I...no...I swear," she stuttered, her tears coming back with renewed force. She sniffed once and searched for the doorknob behind her. "I'll go." And before either one could protest, Hermione left Draco's room. Without a single glance back, she Apparated home.

"Well, it's a miracle you didn't splinch yourself," Blaise Zabini greeted her when she materialized in her living room. Gentle sobs were her only response as she took the stairs to the second floor. When Blaise joined her, she was sitting on the floor of what was to be the nursery. "What happened?" he asked, taking a seat beside her.

"He hates me," she whispered. "Whatever the two of you did, it's turned him against me. How do I explain this to our daughter? How do I tell her that her father might not come back?"

"Maybe she doesn't have to know," Blaise replied naively.

Hermione scowled. "Blaise, she's old enough and smart enough to realize when something isn't right," she said. "He's all she's asked about this past month."

"Does she know he's awake?" Blaise asked, glancing behind him to make sure they had no unwanted company.

She shook her head. "After finding out his memories were gone, I didn't want her to be upset that he didn't remember her," she answered. "And now with these new, I don't know, memories, I definitely don't want him around her."

"Especially with another baby on the way," he added supportively. He rose from the floor and held out his hands to help her to her feet.

Hermione nodded as she looked around the half finished room. Several different paint colors striped the walls as they had yet to decide on a color. The crib was in need of some minor repair after their daughter, Anastasia, had taken a few crayons to the wood. There were boxes of unopened, unassembled furniture and stacks of baby clothing and bedding that needed to be put away. In four months, Hermione would give birth with or without her husband.

Blaise noticed the way her brown eyes scanned the room as she assessed the work that still needed to be done. He walked over to the wall near the door and examined the different colors Draco had painted there for her approval. "Do you know if it's a boy or a girl yet?" he asked.

"We planned to be surprised," she replied. "Draco thinks it'll be a boy this time though. He was right about Ana, so he might be right this time. I was thinking about using the light blue in here. It was Draco's favorite too. He was going to paint it that day, but then-"

But then an experiment had gone wrong, and Draco landed in a coma, Blaise thought. He had been in the lab with Draco that fateful day. He had seen his friend's potion backfire, and feared he was dead. In the days after the accident, Blaise had begun dividing his time between work at the Ministry, visiting Draco, and sleeping on Hermione's sofa. A sense of guilt had clung to him the moment Draco was rendered unconscious. And it was that guilt that kept him returning to the Malfoys' home day after day.

Hermione had been grateful. Neither she nor Draco had parents who chose to be involved in their lives. Arthur and Molly Weasley had welcomed Draco into their family despite decades of tension between the two families. They were loving parents to their own large family, and a few more additions never bothered them. But Molly was an overbearing woman at the best of times. When news of Draco's accident spread, Molly demanded that Hermione and Anastasia move into the Burrow. And when Hermione objected to separating her child from her home, Molly insisted that she come stay with them.

Then Blaise stepped in. As Draco's best friend and Anastasia's godfather, he felt a certain duty to take care of his friend's family. He was more than happy to help around the house. While Hermione took care of Anastasia, Blaise often cooked dinner or cleaned. He was there to fill in where Draco no longer could. His calm demeanor was a welcome relief after days spent with the Weasley family.

"I can do it," he volunteered.

A door across the hall opened and Hermione spotted her two year old daughter emerge with bedraggled brown curls and sleepy gray eyes. She wandered into the nursery and extended her arms to Blaise as a silent question to pick her up. He happily obliged and held her close as she woke up. "Mama see Daddy today?" she asked through a yawn.

"No," Hermione lied. "He was still sleeping when I went to visit."

"Him home soon?" Ana wondered, focusing her gray eyes on her mother.

Despite the pain in her chest, Hermione forced herself to smile. "Soon, baby," she promised.

"Before the baby?" she pushed, innocently fingering the top button of Blaise's shirt.

Hermione looked to Blaise, at a loss for words. He smiled first at her, then the little girl in his arms. "If he doesn't, it looks like I've got a nursery to get to work on," he joked, hoping to lighten the mood.

Ana shook her head and stared at her mother. "But I want my daddy."


	4. Chapter 4

It's gray and rainy and cold here today. I enjoy going to the mall on days like today. It's so bright and cheerful there. If only I didn't have to buy a gift for my little brother's birthday. I swear, boys are harder to shop for than girls. My mom told me not to get her anything for Mother's Day this year. Does anyone else see the Catch 22 in that?

* * *

Chapter 4  
Blaise entered Draco's hospital room to find his sitting up in bed as he stared out the window. Clearing his throat, he sat down in the chair beside the bed and waited for Draco to acknowledge him. It was tense as the minutes ticked by; Draco not speaking and Blaise wishing he would.

"They said you brought me in," Draco finally said without turning away from the window.

"That's right," Blaise replied. "We were in the potions lab together at the Ministry. You were working on something having to do with reversing the Obliviate charm. It was eerily quiet before I heard this sound like an explosion. I turned around and you were halfway across the room bleeding from the back of your head."

Draco nodded; he had known most of that already. "Why haven't my parents come to see me?" he wondered. Blaise nervously fiddled with his fingers. It took too long for him to form an answer, and his friend had passed impatient. Turning his head, gray eyes locked on the Italian. "Do they know where I am? Don't they care that something bad has happened to me?"

Blaise slumped back in his chair and pressed his fingers to his eyes. "I don't know how to tell you this," he sighed. "Hermione would be handy at a time like this."

"Just say it already," he demanded.

Brown eyes diverted, Blaise whispered, "They're dead."

The man in the bed seemed to deflate. "She killed them too," he mumbled.

"Who?" Blaise wondered. "Who is it you think killed them?"

"Granger," came his dark reply. "She tried to kill me, and when it didn't work, she killed them. And now...now everyone keeps trying to convince me I married her."

"You did," Blaise insisted. "You married Hermione and you have a beautiful daughter. Hermione didn't kill your parents, Draco. Your father died in Azkaban and your mother seemed to fade away after that. You insisted Ana have her name, so Hermione put it down as her middle name."

Leaning forward, Draco held his head in his hands as he tried to block out his friend's words. It did little good though when he heard Blaise mention his daughter's name. His hands dropped to his lap and he slowly opened his once clenched eyes. "What's her name?" he asked.

Blaise sighed, hopeful that he had gotten through to his best friend. "Anastasia Narcissa Malfoy," he replied proudly. "She's beautiful, Drake. She has Hermione's hair and your eyes. She's smart for a two year old. She asks about you everyday."

Draco swallowed past the lump in his throat. "Can I see her?" he asked.

Hesitant to say yes, Blaise rose from the chair and crossed the room to the window. There were few people out on such a dreary day, and the ones who were were bundled in heavy coats with umbrellas held over their heads. Ana had woken up with a cold that morning, and Hermione had blamed it on the poor weather.

"She's not going to let me, will she," Draco added.

"You accused her of trying to kill you," Blaise replied. "I wouldn't let you near my kid either."

"Yeah, well, she isn't your kid," he retorted angrily. "She's mine."

Blaise whirled around to face his friend. "And what happens if you decide she's a killer too?" he inquired.

"Because she's a kid," Draco said. "Why would I accuse a two year old of being a killer?"

One eyebrow rose as Blaise retorted, "Why would you accuse your wife of being one?"

"Because she-" Draco started.

"Didn't kill anyone," Blaise interrupted angrily. "When Lucius died and your mother started giving up, Hermione was the one at the Manor every day taking care of her. She cried for hours when she realized there was nothing she could do, no way to bring her back. You have no idea, Draco, the effect your marriage had on our world. Your mother had a tremendous amount of respect for Hermione, long before you realized she was more than her bloodline. I had never seen Narcissa happier than the day of your wedding."

Shaking his head, Draco struggled to separate what his friend said from the memories he had. It all seemed too impossible to ever be true. She was a mudblood and he had been raised by pureblood extremists. Hermione Granger was everything he had been raised to hate. He wondered how it was possible that they had not only put the past behind them, but had managed to overlook their childhood behaviors enough to fall in love.

"How did it happen?" Draco asked. "I mean, her and me. How did we decide that we didn't hate each other anymore?"

For the first time since he had entered the hospital room, Blaise smiled. The question was a sign that the tides might be turning. Draco genuinely seemed interested in the parts of his life the potion had made him forget. This, however, wasn't his story to tell.

Draco frowned. "Do you think she'll tell me?" he asked when Blaise refused to do it.

"I think she loves you, mate," Blaise replied. "If you can promise to stay calm and not accuse her of any more crimes, she might. I'm staying with her though."

"Because you don't trust me," Draco said flatly. And what reason did he have to trust him? He was embarrassed, but Blaise confirmed his suspicion. "Are the two of you friends?"

He nodded. "Yeah, because of you," he replied. "She's still a bit on the bossy, know-it-all side, but I've never met anyone with so much care and compassion."

"Do you like her?" Draco wondered, concerned that his friend just might have feelings for his wife.

Blaise shrugged and looked away, embarrassed by the question. "She's been a good friend," he said evasively.

"That wasn't my question," the blond replied, irritation in his voice.

Blaise didn't know what to say. Hermione was his best friend's wife. They had a family and a baby on the way. It would be wrong to develop anything more than a friendship with the witch. And so he finally said, "No."

Leaning back in bed, Draco eyed his friend warily. Blaise Zabini had never been one for relationships, but he had often lured women away from him. It had been a game when they younger as neither really cared for the girls. Pansy Parkinson was a fine example. But Granger was his, and even if he didn't love her, he wasn't willing to let of what was his.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5  
It had taken a good amount of convincing to get Hermione to the hospital the next day. Blaise had pleaded, explaining that Draco had requested she come. She had forced him to promise that he wouldn't leave her side, no matter how many times Draco demanded he leave. He was too afraid to leave her alone with him, and went so far as to suggest an unbreakable vow. She had stilled his wand when he attempted to cast the spell, promising that it wasn't necessary.

Now she stood outside of Draco's room, too scared to enter. Blaise placed a hand on her shoulder and opened the door. "You'll be fine," he promised. He led her inside and greeted Draco.

"Hi," Draco greeted her, ignoring Blaise who stood beside her chair.

One little word caused tears to spring to Hermione's eyes. "Hi," she returned. Draco extended a box of tissues, and she gratefully accepted one. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cry. It's the hormones, I think."

"It's alright," he replied kindly. They sat in awkward silence; Draco working up the nerve to ask about their relationship and Hermione attempting to stop the flow of her tears. When she finally seemed to quiet down, he asked, "Did Blaise tell you why I wanted to talk to you?"

Hermione nodded. "You wanted to know about us," she replied. Draco nodded pensively. "Well, where to begin?" she wondered with a small laugh.

The war had only been over a few months when Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger met at the Three Broomsticks. Hermione had planned to help with the reconstruction efforts at Hogwarts, and would be meeting with the new headmistress around noon. But with an hour to kill, she stopped into the pub for an early lunch.

Draco had spent the days following his release from his Ministry-imposed home imprisonment wandering Hogsmeade Village. Every day, just before noon, he would stop into the pub for a butterbeer. He knew it wasn't the wisest time of day as the lunch crowd came in, but Madam Rosemerta was usually in the kitchen preparing for them. After placing her under the Imperius Curse during his sixth year, he had a hard time facing her.

When he arrived that day, his usual table was occupied. Not caring if he drew attention to himself, he marched up and slammed his palms down on the table. "Find another table, Granger," he growled.

Hermione held up a hand to silence him as she read. When she finished her page, she marked it with a scrap of paper and closed the book. "There was no reserved sign, Draco," she commented. "I'd say the table is fair game."

He wanted to yell at her, not only for using his given name, but for her flippant attitude. Still against the idea of causing a scene, he pulled out the chair opposite her and sat down. He frowned petulantly at her as she kept her ever watchful gaze fixed on him. It wasn't until he began to kick the table leg that she spoke.

"I didn't think you'd join me," she admitted. "Finding another table probably would have made you happier."

"This table makes me happy," he replied.

Hermione's eyebrows rose skeptically. "Your behavior would suggest otherwise." His frown deepened further. "Should we order lunch?" she asked, hoping to improve his mood.

"Not afraid I might poison your food?" he inquired, smirking as he mulled the thought over in his head.

"No," was her simple reply. Then she laughed when he shot her a defiant look. "The Ministry has just released you. You won't jeopardize your freedom by poisoning me."

He knew she was right. He hated that she was always right. They ordered lunch and ate quietly. Both seemed to hurry through their meal, and when she finished, Hermione dropped a few coins on the table. "I have to get up to the school," she said as she gathered her belongings. "See you tomorrow?" Taken aback by her question, Draco merely nodded.

Back in the hospital room, Draco stared at her. "So we had lunch," he said. "How does that lead to marriage?"

Hermione smiled as she recalled the memories of the beginning of their friendship. "We ate lunch together every day," she told him, "long after after the renovations at Hogwarts were completed. When the school reopened and I went back to finish my last year, you met me every weekend for lunch. That year at Christmas, you invited me to come home with you."

"But my parents-"

"Didn't mind," she told him. "Lucius was in Azkaban, and your mother wanted you to be happy. I remember her telling me that. We had just walked in, and she dismissed you to take our bags upstairs. Then she told me that she didn't care if I was muggleborn or pureblood. Too many people had died because they believed in blood purity, and she thought it was senseless. It made her happy to see you smile again. That's all she ever wanted."

"And I was happy?" he asked. She nodded. "How long have we been married?"

"Four years," she told him. "The first week of September 2000."

Draco was silent as he took it all in. What had started as an accidental meeting at lunch had led to a wedding and two children. Blaise had said that their marriage had changed the wizarding world. When he asked her about it, she blushed a deep shade of crimson.

"I think Blaise exaggerates," she remarked, glaring at their friend. "There were people who were against it at first. Then slowly, I think people started to see us in a different light. It was well known that we hated each other before the war. Then as the world was rebuilding itself, so were we."

"There was an article in the _Prophet_ about it," Blaise added. "They said that while Potter was the great conqueror, it was the two of you who gave the world hope that we could move on."

Closing his eyes, he pressed the heels of his hands into the sockets. "Maybe we should let you rest," he heard Hermione say, and his eyes snapped open.

"No, please. I want to hear more," he pleaded.

"Tomorrow," she promised, rising from her chair. He reached out and grabbed her hand to keep her from leaving. A gentle smile ghosted her lips as she moved toward the bed. She hesitated a moment, leaning midway toward him.

"Please," he whispered.

Hermione pressed her lips to his cheek, and said, "Tomorrow, Draco."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6  
"Think you're ready to go home?" Jensen asked as she entered Draco's room the next day.

"I think so," he replied uncertainly. In less than an hour, he would be out of St. Mungo's. But his memories had yet to return. He was to be released into Hermione's care in hopes that being with his family would help his recovery.

The pretty blonde healer smiled as she helped him stand. "You'll be fine," she assured him. "And I'm sure you're excited to meet your daughter. Mrs. Malfoy used to sit by your bedside and tell you about her. She seems like a very sweet little girl."

"Must get that from her mother," he mumbled.

Jensen laughed and left him alone to dress. When she returned twenty minutes later, Hermione was in tow. Their greetings were stiff, but Hermione's smile never faltered. "I told Ana last night that you were coming home," she said as he gathered the few belongings he had. "She's been up since four o'clock this morning."

Draco laughed. "That excited, huh," he remarked. "I just hope I don't let her down. Does she know what happened to me?"

Hermione tilted her head to the side. "Well, yes and no," she said. "She knows you've been sleeping this past month. I told her that you've been asleep so long that there are things you might not remember. She's so keen to help you that she had Blaise making a list of all the things she had to tell you."

"Is he with her now?" he asked, blond brows knitting together.

Hermione nodded, and slowly her smile began to slip. "He's been staying at the house," she replied.

Draco's knuckles whitened as his hands clenched into tight fists. A jealous feeling bubbled in his stomach at the thought of Blaise spending time with his family. Though he hadn't admitted it, Draco knew Blaise had feelings for Hermione. Feelings that went too far beyond friendship.

"Draco?" she murmured, stepping forward to place her hand on his forearm. He said nothing, but his face reddened and his breathing increased. His fists clenched even tighter as he closed his eyes. She let go of him and put a fair amount of space between them. "Draco, should I call in the healer?"

He heard the panic in her voice, but he paid it little attention. Flashes raced through his mind. Blaise holding Hermione's hand. Blaise tucking his daughter into bed at night. Blaise and Hermione falling asleep together on the living room sofa. Draco didn't know if they real or fake, serving only to increase his anxiety.

When they passed, his breathing returned to normal and he opened his eyes. "No, I'm fine," he told her. "I just want to leave."

Hermione nodded, but kept her distance. "Okay, let's go home," she said. After the discharge papers were signed, they stepped into the floo side by side. Hermione called out their destination, and in a flash of green flame, they were home. She stepped out first, smiling as a delighted squeal of "Daddy! Daddy!" erupted before Draco had a chance to brace himself. The small girl launched herself at his legs as Draco's back hit the stone fireplace.

"Mama, Mama, Daddy's home!" Anastasia cried delightedly as she clung to his leg. "Up, Daddy. Up."

Hesitantly, he bent down and picked the child up. His eyes trained on Hermione, and silently seemed to ask if he was doing it right. With tears in her eyes, she nodded. Still uneasy about holding Ana, he leaned back against the mantle and looked at her cherubic face in awe. "You really do look like your mum," he murmured.

Ana shook her head. "Mama says I has you eyes," she told him matter-of-factly.

"Your ears too," Hermione interjected. "Ana, how about you let Daddy sit down for a bit? I think he's still a little tired."

The little girl shrugged, but continued to cling to her father's neck. "Sit, Daddy," she instructed. Blaise rose from the sofa to take her from his friend, but Ana hung on tighter. "No, stay with Daddy."

Despite her shrieking, Draco managed not to wince as he glared at Blaise. "I don't need your help," he growled. Slowly, he pushed himself away from the mantle and slipped into the nearest chair. Ana straddled his lap, arms around his neck and her face buried in his shirt. He rubbed her back comfortingly. "You're okay, sweetie. I'm not going anywhere."

"No leave me and Mama?" she asked, lifting her head to stare up at him with eyes identical to his own.

"I'm not going anywhere," he promised her, his focus only on her. He blocked out Hermione and ignored Blaise completely. The small, brown-haired, gray-eyed girl in his arms was all he could see. Ana put her head back down on his shoulder and he twirled a curl around his finger.

He heard a hushed murmur before Blaise cleared his throat. "I should take off," he said as if it were his idea. Hermione was the only one to acknowledge him. "I can stop by tomorrow after work. Drake, I'm sure everyone will be happy to hear you're back home."

Draco merely nodded and remained silent until he was gone. He glared at Hermione as he held Anastasia closer. "Did you and Mummy have a good time together while I was gone?" he asked.

"We missed Daddy," she replied.

"You're all she's talked about," Hermione added. "If you're missing a blue shirt, you can find it in her bed."

Draco seemed perplexed by her comment, but remembered that their daughter knew nothing of his missing memories. "Wanted a reminder of me, did you?" he asked her.

"It smells pretty," she commented. "Like you."

Draco chuckled. "And did Mummy have a keepsake that she slept with?" he inquired.

Ana nodded against his chest. "Lots of things," she told him.

His eyes pulled away from his daughter to stare at Hermione. "Like what?" he wondered.

A faint blush colored Hermione's cheeks. "Your pillow," she said. "The black sweater you wore the first time we had lunch. Nothing major."

Ana pulled away from her father and walked over to where Hermione sat on the edge of the coffee table. "This too," she said, tugging gently on the chain around her mother's neck.

The blush deepened as Hermione held onto her necklace. Brows furrowed, Draco leaned forward for a better look. "Why don't you go get that new dolly that Aunt Ginny gave you," Hermione suggested. Ana seemed hesitant to leave, but did as she was told. When she was out of earshot, Hermione removed the chain from her neck and extended it to him. "It was with your personal effects at the hospital. I didn't want it to get lost."

In his hand, Draco now held his wedding ring. The golden circle was still warm from her touch. He turned it over in his hands and read the small inscription on the underside of the band. _You and Me - Forever_. Clearing his throat, he handed it back to her. "Maybe you should hold onto it for now."


	7. Chapter 7

Just a little something before the weekend. Happy Mother's Day to anyone celebrating this weekend!

* * *

Chapter 7  
"Merlin, I look old," Draco lamented as he stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. "Why do you look the same as you did when we were 17?"

Hermione laughed and looked down at her stomach. "Well, not _exactly_ the same," she replied. "And you don't look old. You really haven't changed much over the last six years."

"Sure I have," he mumbled. "I married you, didn't I?"

A faint blush colored her cheeks as she continued with her nighttime routine. Draco watched her apply the smallest amount of moisturizer to her face before untangling the knots in her hair. It was done with the same delicate care he had seen her use with Anastasia's curly locks following her bath. She was gentle, pulling only on the most obstinate knots, and his daughter had handled it well.

"Is she always that good?" he asked, taking a seat on the edge of the bathtub. Hermione furrowed her brows, not sure about whom he was speaking. But Draco didn't seem to notice as he examined the label on a bottle of lavender scented body wash. "She seems like such a sweet kid. How is it possible that she's even mine?"

"Trust me," Hermione said, "she's yours. The other day she threw her peas on the floor and demanded ice cream in their place. She had to have gotten that from you."

"Was Blaise here when it happened?" he wondered, trying to sound as nonchalant as he could.

She watched him from the corner of her eye for only a moment before turning them back to the mirror. "Yes, he was," she replied.

"Potter and Weasley weren't available to help you out? You turned to Blaise?" He was getting angry, which made his head hurt even more.

Hermione put down her hairbrush and turned off the bathroom light. From his place in the dark bathroom, Draco could see into the master suite, and watched as Hermione turned down the bed. Getting to his feet, he left the bathroom and leaned against the wall beside the door. "Planning on answering me?" he inquired.

"Planning on telling me what it is you're getting at?" she retorted. "Because, if it's what I think it is, I don't appreciate the insinuation."

The pain returned as a vision flashed before his eyes. Blaise and Hermione lying side by side in the bed they had shared as husband and wife. The pair - his best friend and his wife - rolling about in the sheets, kissing lovingly as they moved together. Her wedding ring was no longer on her finger, cast aside in the corner of the room.

"You slept with him," he accused when the memory ended.

"How dare you!" she said angrily. "How could you accuse me of such a thing? I'm _your_ wife, Draco. Do you honestly think I would sleep with your best friend?"

"I don't know what you're capable of, Granger," he replied. "But I know what Blaise does. Can you honestly tell me he hasn't tried anything with you?"

Hermione sunk down on her side of the bed and stared at the black sweater at the foot of the bed. She tried to recall a time when Blaise had been overly friendly, but none came to mind. He'd been a model friend and a loving godfather. "Draco, nothing happened. I swear."

Shaking his head, he moved toward the bed and grabbed a pillow. Briefly, he wondered if it was the same pillow she cuddled up to those nights he was in the hospital. He considered leaving it there, finding another, but quickly changed his mind. Walking toward the bedroom door, his hand had just touched the knob when he turned back to face her. "You never answered my question," he said. "Why wasn't it Potter or Weasley?"

"They never offered," she replied quietly. "After I refused Molly's offer to live at the Burrow, neither Harry nor Ron offered to help. Harry has a family of his own that needed him, and Ron's been out of the country. Besides, I thought I could do it myself, so I never asked them."

"But you had no problem all but allowing Blaise to move in," Draco remarked facetiously.

She shook her head. "I did need help," she said. "And Blaise has been your best friend for years. I didn't think I was doing anything wrong by accepting his help."

"There are a lot of things I don't remember, and I don't know if I ever will," he stated. "But I'll tell you this - I don't want him around here anymore. I don't want him around Ana."

With that, he opened the door and left the master bedroom. But Hermione wasn't far behind. They silently descended the stairs, making their way to the living room. With a quick wave of her wand, Hermione cast a charm to contain the noise she was sure would otherwise wake Ana.

"He's her godfather. Did you know that?" she asked.

Draco made up the sofa, exhausted after his first day home. Without magic to aid him and a sheet that wouldn't cooperate, he gave up and tossed it on the floor. Sitting down, he cupped his face in his hands. "I don't care," he replied, his voice muffled.

"Please, talk to me, Draco," she implored, taking a seat beside him. "In the hospital, when you said I tried to kill you, you clutched your head like you were in pain. You did the same thing before. What happened?"

Removing his hands from his face, he glared at her. "None of your business, Granger," he replied as clearly as he could. "Now, go away and let me sleep."

Nodding, she got to her feet and picked up the discarded sheet. She haphazardly folded it and placed it on the coffee table in case he got cold later. After disabling the noise cancelling charm, she left the living room. One foot on the stairs, she stopped and looked longingly at her husband. "I know you don't believe it, but I love you, Draco," she said, and he was sure she was crying as she said it.

He stared at her as she silently ascended the stairs to the second floor. Shutting off the lights, he laid down and tried to sleep. But his thoughts filled with the woman who loved him.


	8. Chapter 8

I wish I could be one of those people who enjoys the rain. They're probably people who don't have body parts that hurt whenever the weather takes a turn. Knees, back and elbow are all achy, and I'm blaming the weather. Sunshine would be nice right about now.

* * *

Chapter 8  
"But he refers to you as his wife?" Ginny Potter asked. "That's a good sign."

"Only in public," Hermione muttered. "The rest of the time he calls me Granger."

Seated at the Weasley family's kitchen table, the two young mothers commiserated about life with their husbands. Ginny and Harry had married only a year after the war ended. Just months before Ana was born, James Sirius Potter entered the world. Sixteen months later, his brother, Albus Severus, joined the family. Both boys were the spitting image of their father, from the messy, dark hair and green eyes to their penchant for mischief. Ginny often had her hands full with her sons while her husband worked for the Auror department.

"Do you think Ana notices anything out of the ordinary?" Ginny asked, as she spoon fed Al his lunch.

Hermione nodded. Like her mother, Anastasia was an inquisitive child. If there was a question to ask, Ana demanded it be answered. With Draco's return home, the questions increased more and more as the days went by. The tension between her parents had definitely begun to affect the little girl.

"She asked me yesterday why he's sleeping on the sofa," she shared. "And today she asked why Daddy and I never kiss anymore. Maybe it would have been better if he stayed at the hospital until his memories returned."

Yelping, Ginny attempted to pry her red locks from her son's messy hand. With food in her hair and a frown on her face, she returned her attention to her friend. "I thought you said being home would help him recover his memories," she pointed out. "Has he remembered anything at all?"

She thought back over the last few days since his return. "Well, he's accused me of having an affair," she said. "He doesn't speak to me. He spends all of his time with Ana, which I've chosen to take as a good sign. But, no, he doesn't seem to remember anything."

"Must have been difficult prying her away from him today to come here," Harry commented, joining them at the table. Frowning, he began to remove mashed peas from his wife's hair.

Hermione sighed. "She cried. She whined. She pleaded. She tried bargaining," she said. "It was pretty difficult to get her to leave without him. It's a miracle she hasn't asked to go home yet."

Harry chuckled as he watched the kids play in the backyard. "James seems to be doing a pretty good job of keeping her distracted," he commented, laughing harder when George joined in the fun by allowing the two children to jump on his back.

"Harry, the Auror department has been investigating Draco's accident. Is there anything you can tell me?" Hermione asked. "Anything that might give us some clue as to what he was working on? Maybe if the healers know what it was, they can figure out a way to reverse the effects."

He looked to his wife as if silently asking her if she thought it a good idea to share anything with their friend. The redhead gave a minute nod before removing Al from his highchair to clean him up. Now alone, Harry turned to Hermione and removed his glasses. "I'm not a part of his case given my connection to your family, but I have heard things," he said quietly. "The Ministry has been working on finding a way to reverse memory charms. It seems Draco's potion backfired when he added the wrong ingredient."

"That's not like him," Hermione interjected. "He's always been good at potions, and he's meticulous about his ingredients. There's no way he would have added the wrong thing."

"What if someone switched something on him?" Harry wondered.

Dark brows furrowed. "Do you think someone tried to sabotage him?" she asked. But Harry could only shrug. "So, these new memories he has, they're part of the potion mishap?"

"They could be," Harry hedged. "Blaise is supposed to be looking into it. His other project was shelved. Has he said anything to you about it?"

She shook her head. "Maybe he's not supposed to," she reasoned as the kitchen door opened. Their conversation ended when George carried Ana and James inside just as rain began to fall outside.

"Mama, see Daddy now?" Ana asked, squirming in her uncle's arms. He set her down and she ran to stand beside Hermione. Her small hands touched the swell of her mother's stomach, and she received a small kick from the life growing inside of her. "Silly baby," she added with a giggle.

"We'll go soon," she promised, stroking her soft, curly locks as Ana glued herself to her side. "It's almost nap time anyhow."

Ana perked up as an idea formed in her head. "Take nap with Daddy?" she asked, attempting to climb onto her mother's lap.

Hermione helped her up and smiled. "I think Daddy would like that," she replied. Turning her attention back to Harry, she asked, "Can we talk about this more tomorrow?"

"We can have lunch tomorrow around noon," Harry suggested. 'Ginny can take Ana if you need her to."

Hermione expressed her gratitude and set Ana back on her feet to say her goodbyes. "Draco doesn't seem to trust Blaise," she said to Harry once Ana was out of the room. "Why do you think that is?"

He looked around to make sure they were alone. "I know what you're thinking," he replied. "Blaise has been good to your family, Hermione. Besides, Draco has no memory of that day. There's no reason to believe that he doesn't trust him because he messed with Draco's experiment. I mean, that is what you were thinking, right?"

Hermione laughed. "Yeah, yeah it was," she said, glad that her friend could always read her mind. "I just wish I understood it."

"I understand it," Harry murmured innocently. "He thinks the two of you are having an affair, right? Remember back in sixth year? All those years, Pansy Parkinson hung all over Draco, then sixth year happens and she's all over Blaise. The guy thinks he's eighteen again, Mione. He just found out that the only family he's got left is you and Ana. I think he's afraid of losing you, even if he doesn't really like you."

"Thank you, Harry," she said, hugging him as tightly as she could.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9  
Draco returned home while Hermione made dinner. His nose had led him to the kitchen, and he sighed happily after a deep inhale of the delicious scent. She remained quiet as she mashed potatoes and checked the chicken baking in the oven. He watched her move to the refrigerator to pull out salad fixings.

"I'll do it," he volunteered, taking the vegetables from her. After washing the lettuce, tomatoes, and cucumbers, he stationed himself at the counter beside the stove. "Does it hurt?" he asked, breaking the lettuce into mouth-sized bits.

"What?" she asked, eyeing him quizzically.

He gestured toward her stomach. "Being pregnant," he clarified. "Does it hurt?"

She touched her stomach as she felt her baby kick. "Sometimes," she admitted. "It was worse with Ana. Everything hurt, it was hard to move around, and she had the most powerful kick. She did it so hard once that you rushed me to the hospital to make sure she hadn't ruptured something."

They resumed their dinner preparations in silence. When the salad was finished, he set the table, exploring each cabinet as he went. "I went to see Jensen today," he said breezily as he pulled two drink glasses from the cabinet to the left of the refrigerator. "She talked about hypnotizing me. I guess she thinks it'll get my memories back."

"Could be worth a try," Hermione agreed, groaning as she bent down to remove the chicken from the oven. Setting the glasses down on the counter, he helped her stand and pulled the pan out himself.

"She also suggested that I be nicer to you," he added, a blush coloring his cheeks at his admission.

"Don't worry about that," she replied. "I'd rather you be nice to me because you want to. Not because the healer told you to."

He placed the hot pan down on top of the stove and scoffed at her. "So, you'd rather I continue being a complete git?" he asked. "That would make you happier?"

"Than you pretending that you can stand me? Yes," she replied, louder than necessary. "Around Ana or friends or whoever, I guess it wouldn't hurt to be nicer. But I don't want some fake version of you, Draco. I don't want to wonder if you're being kind to me because that's how you really feel or if you're doing it because you think it's what you're supposed to do. I spent enough years knowing how much you hated me. I can live through it again."

Untying her apron, she threw it down on the nearest chair and left the kitchen. Draco stared at the kitchen door, startled by her reaction. Since waking up from the coma, he'd been rude and surly toward her, accusing her of heinous things because his memories told him they were so. He hadn't expected to receive carte blanche to continue this behavior.

He advanced toward the door, but stopped just feet short of it. Was he supposed to go after her? Should he have apologized, or tried to convince her that he wanted to be nicer? Did he really want to be nice to her, though? Despite protests, he wasn't entirely convinced that she hadn't played a part in his parents' death. Nor was he sure that she and Blaise hadn't had an affair. The memories were in his mind, so they must be true.

Before he could make up his mind to go after her, the kitchen door opened and Ana ran to him. "Love me, Daddy?" she asked when he'd hoisted her up so they were almost eye level.

"I do," he replied honestly and without hesitation.

But she wasn't pleased. "That's not what you say," she told him with a frown.

His frown matched hers. "What do I say?" he wondered.

Her little hands rested on his cheeks. "You say 'forever and ever I do'," she replied. He repeated her words and received a kiss from his little girl. "Better, Daddy."

"Do you love me?" he asked, happy for the affection he felt for her.

"Always and always," was her trademark answer. "Eat now?"

Draco looked to the stove where their dinner sat, not yet growing cold. "We should wait for your mum," he decided, glancing back toward the door in hopes that she would soon return.

"Her tummy hurts," Ana informed him. "Her not coming."

Draco put her down in her seat and quietly began to serve dinner. But he hardly touched his portion. His eyes lingered on the door as Ana ate and told him about her day at the Weasleys' house. She was lively and animated, giggling delightedly as she recalled something funny that Potter's son had said to her. But he was too distracted to listen to most of it. Finally, she finished and excused herself from the table.

He rose to clean off the table, and spotted Hermione's empty plate beside him. The dirty dishes forgotten, he grabbed the plate and began to fill it for her. He took the stairs to the master bedroom slowly, fearful that he may drop her dinner. The door was ajar and he used his foot to push it open just enough for him to slip in.

"Thought you might be hungry," he said nervously, setting the plate down on the vanity. A thick document folder hid her face from his view, and at the sound of his voice, she jumped and closed it quickly.

"Thanks," she replied, slipping the folder into the top drawer. He had to look closely, but he was sure he saw her mutter a spell to lock it. She eyed him as she ate a small forkful of mashed potatoes. "Please stop watching me eat," she requested, placing the fork back on the plate.

Draco laughed to cover his embarrassment. "Sorry," he murmured. "I just...I wanted to say I'm sorry."

"For watching me eat?" she asked dubiously.

He shook his head and sat down at the foot of the bed. "I'm sorry that I don't know what really happened to me," he told her. "I wish I knew who I was after the war. I just...I want to remember something. Anything."

"You will," she promised. "Whatever it was you were experimenting on, Blaise is looking into it. In no time, he'll have a solution."

Draco nodded if only to confirm that he heard her. But he didn't believe her.


	10. Chapter 10

It was doctor day today, and things went well! Then my little brother and I went to the mall, which made the day infinitely better.

* * *

Chapter 10  
Hermione smiled when she spotted her best friend at a table near the back of the Leaky Cauldron. "It never fails to amaze me when I'm earlier than you," he remarked, standing to greet her. After pressing a kiss to her cheek, he pulled out the chair opposite him and helped her sit. "How's Draco?"

"Different," she replied, furrowing her brows. Perplexed by her response, Harry urged her to elaborate. "Well, he doesn't remember anything yet, but he's less hostile."

"That's a good sign," Harry said confidently. "How's he with Ana?"

Hermione smiled. "Amazing," she replied. She recalled how Draco had taken to sleeping on Ana's floor beside her bed. The little girl claimed that monsters inhabited her closet, and Draco volunteered to keep her safe. At some point during the night, she would climb out of her bed and snuggle into his arms as he slept. "He really loves her. I think he'd do anything for her."

"She does have that effect on people," he remarked. "So, you said he's been nicer to you? What prompted that?"

"A fight," she said with a sigh. "The healer told him he needed to be nicer to me, and after we talked for a bit, he decided he wanted civility."

Stretching his hand across the table, he covered Hermione's and smiled. "That's great, Mione," he said sincerely. "I know I disapproved of the two of you at first, but I've seen how much he loved you. I think he'll remember that first."

She cleared her throat and leaned forward. "Speaking of his memories, is there anything else you can tell me about the investigation?" she asked, not letting go of her best friend's hand.

Harry looked around, glad that the pub was mostly empty. Still, he couldn't risk being overheard and cast a charm around their table to prevent eavesdropping. "It seems the Ministry was doing more than just trying to reverse the charm," he told her. "Draco was also experimenting with implanted memories."

"Implanting them or reversing them?" she asked.

"I'm sure he was trying to figure out a way to help your parents," came his easy reply. "Anyhow, it would explain these new memories he has."

"But they're horrible memories," she said, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. "When I cast that spell on my parents, I had to be very specific about the memories I gave them. If the caster doesn't give a memory, no memory can be created. The potion had to have created the memory."

"Which would mean that this was no mere mix up of ingredients," Harry continued, growing more worried. "The question is who would do that."

Hermione sat back defeatedly as she wracked her brain for anyone who might want to hurt her husband. Surely he had plenty of enemies; people who hated him either because he sided with Lord Voldemort during the war or because he had failed Lord Voldemort. But no one had given him any trouble in the last half decade.

"No one comes to mind," she replied dejectedly.

An hour later, she returned home full of worry and anxiety. The sound of laughter filled the house. She followed the sound to the living room where Ana sat on Draco's back, holding his hair as if they were reigns. He tried to shake her hands free as he crawled forward and threatened to rear back. Hermione stood silently in the archway with a smile on her lips, watching father and daughter play.

"Ouch," he exclaimed when she pulled too hard. Wrapping his arms behind his back, he held her tightly and stood up on his knees. Slowly Ana slid to her feet; the game over. It seemed he had noticed Hermione earlier despite her desire to remain unseen. "Do you see a bald spot?" he asked her, pointing at the back of his head.

Hermione laughed as she examined the spot where Ana had pulled his hair. "It's pretty big," she assessed, running her fingers through his hair. "I'm pretty sure that's never growing back. Hope you weren't too attached to it."

"You're real funny," Draco replied, rolling his eyes but unable to hide his smile. "Now, all joking aside, am I bald?"

Hermione smoothed his hair down and shook her head. "Maybe the next time the two of you play horsey, she can just hold on to the back of your shirt," she suggested.

"Daddy made scary noises when I did that," Ana said as a worried frown pulled down the corners of her small lips.

Fearing their conversation had hurt her feelings, Draco bent down and picked her up. "I'm okay," he promised her. "Mummy and I were just teasing. You didn't hurt me, baby." He kissed her cheek, and held her awhile longer. It wasn't until Hermione told them they needed to talk that he put Ana down.

When she was out of the room, Hermione led him to the sofa and sat down. "I had lunch with Harry today," she told him, her focus intent on her fingers as she fiddled with her wedding ring. "Um, we...um talked about you. About the investigation into your accident."

"And what does Potter have to say about it?" he inquired, trying his hardest to keep his disdain for Harry Potter out of his voice.

Hermione breathed deeply before responding. "He thinks it was sabotage." She told him about their conversation, giving him all the details that Harry had given her. Draco grew paler and paler as she went on.

"And Blaise hasn't said anything to you?" Draco asked, rubbing his eyes. "He's supposed to be helping to figure out what went wrong, right? Has he even bothered to start yet, or was he too busy moving in on my family?"

"It wasn't like that at all, Draco," she insisted. "Please tell me you're starting to believe me that nothing happened between Blaise and me."

"I do," he admitted. "Well, I believe you. Blaise, though, not so much."

Hermione sighed, debating with herself whether or not to hold his hand. She feared he might pull away, rebuke her attempt at comfort. It's what the eighteen year old Draco would do, after all. Deciding against physical contact, she cleared her throat. "I think you should talk to him," she said. "Maybe if he thinks you're trying to make things right between the two of you, he'll tell you something."

Draco shrugged. "Could be worth a try," he reluctantly agreed.


	11. Chapter 11

So, since I have nothing else post-able at the moment, I thought I'd give you another chapter!

* * *

Chapter 11  
Blaise was hunched over his cauldron when Draco entered the potions lab. Both Harry and Hermione had gone with him, but Draco would allow neither to enter the lab. It was his conversation to have, and he needed to do it alone. "Hey," he greeted Blaise, taking a seat on what he assumed to be his stool.

Blaise continued to stir his potion counterclockwise, never taking his eyes from it as he returned the salutation. When he finished, he extinguished the flame and turned to his friend. "Decided I'm worth talking to again?" he inquired.

"Something like that," Draco mumbled. He picked up a jar and examined its contents - lacewing flies. "Why am I friends with Potter? Hermione told me we don't hate each other anymore."

The Italian smirked. "So, she's Hermione now," he mused. "That didn't take long."

Draco scowled angrily. It seemed to take all he had to keep from hitting the man beside him, the one person who could potentially restore his old life. "I didn't really come here to talk about her," he replied, his teeth clenched as he tried to control his temper.

"But you wanted to discuss Potter," Blaise said.

Draco shrugged. "He is my wife's best friend," he muttered. "I should get to know him better."

"Well, Hermione's the reason the two of you became friends," Blaise told him. "Once the two of you started dating, you decided it was best to make amends with Potter. That's how much you loved her. The two of you go to Quidditch matches at least once a season. I think he even made you and Hermione godparents to his second born."

He thought he detected a hint of bitterness in the other man's voice, but Draco chose to ignore it. "Look, I'm sorry for the way I acted the day I came home," he said, praying he sounded sincere. "The whole thing was just...overwhelming."

"And the two weeks since you've been home?" Blaise wondered. Draco didn't answer. "I get that you needed time to adjust, but I'm still your best friend, Drake. I wanted to be there for you, but I kept getting told no. I think I deserve some kind of explanation."

"I already said I was sorry," Draco said. "What more do you want me to say?"

Blaise just shook his head, looking to forget about the conversation and continue his work. But Draco had other ideas. As Blaise worked, he asked question after question, hoping to get some idea about his friend's most recent project. His inquisitions got him nowhere but to learn that his experiment was confidential.

He was just about to leave when he stopped to watch Blaise once more. "Your lacewing flies have gone bad," he informed him. He left then, disappointed that he had learned nothing. He looked up and down the hall, not sure which way to go, when he saw Hermione waiting for him.

"Find out anything?" she asked when he reached her.

"Besides the fact that he's using expired ingredients?" he asked. "No, nothing. He didn't seem willing to talk about much besides the fact that I haven't spoken to him in weeks."

A thoughtful look came over Hermione's face as they walked toward the lifts. "What if you used bad ingredients that day?" she asked. It seemed improbable given Draco's meticulous attention to detail, but it wasn't an idea she was willing to rule out. "That could have caused the adverse reaction. It may also help us figure out a way to reverse the effects of your potion."

"Brilliant idea, Hermione, but Blaise is the only one with access to what I worked on that day," Draco replied, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. It was the closest he had come to showing any sign of affection toward the witch he had married. He found himself mimicking her smile as they silent rode the lift to the Atrium. Together, they floo'd home and waited for Ginny to return with Ana.

"What if I talked to him?" Hermione suggested as she prepared lunch for two.

Draco sat on the counter beside her, ignoring her reproachful look, and he shook his head. "Absolutely not," he replied adamantly.

Putting down the knife she used to slice tomatoes, she moved closer to him and rested her hand on his knee. "Draco, I told you nothing happened between us," she said reassuringly. "You said you believed me."

"I trust you, Hermione," he replied, taking her hand in his. "Look, Blaise kind of said something when I was in hospital. He likes you."

"Well, sure, we're friends," she said, eyeing their joined hands suspiciously.

He shook his head. "No, not like that," he muttered, becoming frustrated when he couldn't adequately express his thoughts. "Likes you...they way I did before the accident."

"You mean he loves me, wants to marry me, and have two children with me?" she joked.

Draco scowled impatiently. "I know you're not that thick, Hermione," he groused, looking into her eyes.

"I know you aren't either," she replied. "I married _you_, Draco, because I've never loved anyone the way I love you. No one is going to replace you."

He spread his legs and maneuvered her to stand between them. "How did I do it?" he asked, taking hold of her other hand. "How did I propose?"

Hermione smiled and stared down at her left hand. Between his fingers, rested the diamond he had given her five years earlier. "It was the first day of spring," she told him. "We hadn't been together all that long. Seven months or so. You came to visit me at school, and had a whole picnic prepared for us. And as we were lying in the grass, you picked up this little white flower and fashioned it into a ring. Then you asked me if I thought being with you forever would make me happy."

"Did you say yes?" he asked.

She laughed. "I did."

"Have you ever been unhappy with me?"

She cocked her head to the side as she considered his question. "I wasn't particularly happy with you during labor," she decided. "But aside from that, you've given me very few reasons to be unhappy with you."

He breathed deeply, steeling himself for what he would say next. "So, if you love me and you've always been happy with me, then why do you have divorce papers in your vanity drawer?"


	12. Chapter 12

You guys - wow! The last chapter got close to 30 reviews. I don't think that's ever happened to me before! Thank you, thank you, thank you! Just for that, you get another chapter.

* * *

Chapter 12  
Hermione pulled her hands out of his and stepped back. "How did you get into my drawer?" she wondered.

Scoffing, he hopped off of the counter, but didn't advance on her. "Just because I don't have a wand doesn't mean I can't do a little magic," he replied. "So, I'll ask you again - why do you have divorce papers? Were you planning to leave me, run away with Blaise? I didn't see any custody papers in that file. I guess you assumed no one would give the kids to the nutter with no memories."

"It's not like that," she said, her voice strong despite her desire to break down under his accusations.

"Then what _is_ it like, Granger?" he demanded angrily. "Really, I'd love to know what it's actually like. Because to me, it looks like my memory loss worked out really well for you."

"I got them for you!" she shouted. "You accused me of killing your parents, trying to kill you, having an affair with your best friend. Excuse me for thinking you might not want to stay married to me."

He moved closer, a menacing glint in his eye as he approached her. "How about you let me make my own decisions once in awhile," he suggested, catching her wrists as she backed into the wall. "That was some good advice you gave me about Blaise. You know, about lulling him into a false sense of security to find out what I wanted. Looks like I thought of it first though, Granger."

"What is it you want?" she inquired stoically, choosing not to fight the bonds of his hands.

"The truth," he replied.

Sighing, she hung her head. "I didn't sleep with Blaise," she said tiredly. "I didn't try to kill you or your parents. How many times do you need to hear it before you believe me?"

Letting go, he shook his head and stepped back until he could sit at the table. "That's not the truth I'm looking for," he told her, the fire gone from his voice.

Hermione stayed where she was, pressed up against the wall near the exit. "Then what is?" she wondered.

"Do you really want to be with me?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied without hesitation. "Do you want to be with me?"

"I don't really have a choice, do I," he muttered as he stared at her pregnant stomach.

Catching his meaning, Hermione joined him at the table. "You _do_ have a choice," she said. "Getting divorced doesn't make you any less of a father. You can still be as involved as you want. We just don't have to be together if it makes you unhappy."

He looked away, picking a spot on the wall upon which to focus. "I haven't been completely unhappy," he mumbled. Soft skin touched his hand, but he refused to look away from the wall. "I'm confused. I don't know if I'm supposed to like you or hate you. I don't trust Blaise enough to tell me anything. It's frustrating to think that I'm doing this alone."

The warmth of her hand receded, and he chanced glancing at her. She had pulled away, leaning back in her chair as she rested her hands on her stomach. He tried to apologize, realizing how his words had affected her. "It's fine," she whispered, blinking rapidly as her eyes watered. He tried again, but she shook her head. "I understand what you meant. You don't remember us as friends so it's harder to trust me."

They sat in silence, listening to the ticking of the clock above the kitchen sink. Draco heard his stomach rumble and continued to make lunch. After placing a sandwich in front of her, Draco sat back down with his own lunch. He ate quickly, but noted that she hardly touched her food. A look of serious contemplation set on her face, he wondered if she was still aware that he was in the room.

"Theo!" she finally said, delight lighting her eyes.

"Excuse me?" he asked, pushing her plate closer to her.

"He might be able to help," she said. "The two of you have been friends at least as long as you and Blaise have. As far as I know, he's never stolen a girlfriend from you so there's little chance you'll accuse him of sleeping with me. It's perfect, really. I don't know why we didn't think of it before."

"Do we see him often?" Draco asked, again nudging her to eat.

She finally took the hint and bit into her sandwich. "Often enough. You see him more on your own than we do together," she replied, not caring that she talked with her mouth full. "He came to the wedding, visited regularly when Ana was born, and he's always around for holidays. We spent Christmas together last year. He and Astoria Greengrass got engaged, and he wanted everyone to be a part of it."

Draco considered this new option. He and Theodore Nott had always been close friends. Though opposites in looks and personality, Draco had known from a young age that Theo was someone he could trust explicitly. He was a "tell it like it is" type, and despite being a Slytherin, tended to be brutally honest. There were no lies, no sugar-coating to his words. He'd insulted more than a few people, but those who knew him respected him for his honesty.

"Why did we make Blaise Ana's godfather instead of Theo?" he wondered, leaving the last few bites of his sandwich on the plate.

Hermione eyed it hungrily as she finished her lunch. "You wanted to. He asked us not to," she replied, gratefully accepting what was left of Draco's food. "I think he never saw himself as the fatherly type. He's amazing with her though."

Draco nodded. Perhaps there had been trouble brewing between Blaise and him long before the accident. And it must have been trouble Hermione knew nothing of. It was just another thing to add to his growing list of questions that needed answering.

If only he could find someone who had the answers.


	13. Chapter 13

Does anyone else have a nook? If so, what are some good apps? I finally broke down and bought one!

* * *

Chapter 13  
"I meant to come around earlier," Theo said as he made himself at home in the Malfoys' living room. "Astoria's mother has all but moved in to help with the wedding plans. She wouldn't let me out of her sight until now."

"Glad I don't remember that phase of my life," Draco replied with a self deprecating laugh.

Stretching out on the sofa, Theo placed a pillow over his eyes. "Your wife was nothing like that," he informed his friend. "Despite your mother and that annoying Weasley woman, she insisted that everything be kept small and simple. Those words - small and simple - haven't been uttered once since Astoria started planning. Even worse is that she wants me to be involved. You, my friend, got lucky."

Draco glanced over at the wedding photo that sat on the end table nearest to him. "So, what, I just showed up?" he asked.

"And restrained your wife a few times when she attempted to hex the Weasley girl," Theo replied. "But, no, you helped where you could, and Hermione knew she'd never be able to force you to do something you didn't want to do."

"Always was a smart one," he mumbled. Together, they sat. Neither said a word as Draco considered which question to ask first.

But Theo beat him to it. "Zabini says you're mad at him," he commented, running long, lithe fingers through the fringe on a throw blanket. "He sounded like a little first year girl crying about having no friends. What's up with the two of you?"

Reluctantly, Draco told him about the memories he'd awoken with only weeks earlier. The more he spoke, the deeper Theo's frown became."You're mental, Drake," Theo remarked, shaking his head.

"Blaise wouldn't care if she's married," the blond retorted angrily.

"True, Blaise _would_ shag a married woman," Theo agreed. "But Hermione's not the type to give any other man the time of day."

"That's what I've been told," Draco grumbled.

"Then believe it."

There was such power behind these three simple words that Draco's reply died on his lips. He'd heard it before, that Hermione could be trusted, but it was Theo who seemed able to get through to him. Believing meant having an ally in a world that was still foreign to him. Believing meant he wasn't alone. He hadn't wanted to discuss Hermione, though, and knew he needed to get the conversation back on track.

"Can I trust Blaise?" he asked, his question blunt but pointed.

Theo raised one dark eyebrow and smirked. "He's a Slytherin," he remarked. "None of us can be trusted."

Draco's pale lips pulled down into a frown. It wasn't the answer he had hoped for. Despite his current issues with Blaise Zabini, he had hoped that he might still have a friend in him. "He's supposed to be helping with my case," Draco told Theo as he stared down at the patch of white carpet that was stained with Ana's apple juice. "Do you think he's really doing anything?"

The arrogant smirk was replaced by a quizzical look. "Blaise knows exactly what happened," Theo replied. "What's to investigate?"

"What do you mean he knows?" Draco asked, thoroughly shocked by this revelation.

Theo shrugged. "All I know is he told me he knows what went wrong," he said. "He said he wanted to tell you first before he went to the higher ups. Hasn't he said anything to you?"

Scowling, Draco shook his head. "Lousy git," he mumbled. "Well, is he doing anything to reverse it?"

Theo shrugged as the front door opened and closed. With a smile on his face, he rose from the sofa to greet the new arrivals. "My nugget," he exclaimed, picking up Ana.

She squealed delightedly as he spun in circles with her over his head. "No, my nugget," she replied giddily when he stopped. He put her down and she walked dizzily to Draco. "Mum Mum and Puppy miss you," she told him as she climbed onto his lap.

"Maybe next time," he said noncommittally. He couldn't bring himself to care about the Weasleys now, not after what he had learned from Theo. Hermione sat down beside him, and he instantly reached for her hand.

"I'm gonna head out," Theo announced, kissing Hermione's cheek. "We'll talk soon, Drake." The two men exchanged a nod before Theo kissed Ana goodbye.

Hermione waited until Theo left before glancing suspiciously at their joined hands. "Did everything go well?" she asked.

Draco looked at Ana before replying, "It was...informative."

Catching his meaning, Hermione took Ana from him and put her to bed for a nap. Draco stood in the doorway, watching as Hermione coaxed her into her pajamas and tucked her into her bed with the stuffed bear he had given her when she was born. After closing the blinds over the windows, she turned on a music box that seemed familiar to him. Shutting the door, Hermione quietly led him to the master bedroom. There, he told her about his conversation with Theo.

"So, he's identified the cause," she said. "That's a good thing. It means he can figure out a way to help you."

"Yeah, but why didn't he say anything to us?" Draco questioned, picking up the black sweater that Hermione had kept at the foot of the bed since his return. "What if he doesn't want me to get my memories back? Does he know about the papers you had drawn up?"

Hermione shook her head. "You're not honestly still on about this affair nonsense, are you?" she asked worriedly.

Draping the sweater across her lap, he sat down beside her on the bed. "No, but I do think he's interested in you," he replied.

"And he'd go through all this trouble to erase your memories just to be with me?" She found it too absurd to believe.

"Maybe he didn't cause the accident, but he was certainly trying to benefit from it," Draco replied, taking her hand once more. His eyes pleaded with her to see his reasoning, but Hermione still seemed uncertain.

With furrowed brows, she wracked her memories for those moments when Blaise had tried to transcend friendship and cement himself more permanently in their lives. "He wanted to paint the nursery," she recalled. "He mentioned it a few times. How it really need to be done before the baby came, but he didn't want me to do it myself. You know I never asked him to sleep here. He just started one night when Ana was sick, and he worried that I might catch it. After that, he sort of just never left. I didn't have the heart to ask him to leave."

"I'm sorry," he told her sadly. "I shouldn't have accused you of cheating on me. It probably doesn't mean much after what happened the other day, but I really am sorry."

The gentle squeeze she gave his hand conveyed her forgiveness. "Do you want to see it?" she asked. "The nursery."

He rose from the bed and waited for her to stand as well. Hand in hand, they entered their baby's nursery for the first time since Draco had come home. And, for the first time, he felt like a part of the family.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14  
Draco bounced Ana around on his lap while she declared "earthquake." Their laughter drowned out all other sound, including the opening of the front door. Hermione was the first to hear the door close and quieted her husband and daughter down. "Go to Mummy," Draco instructed as he left the living room to see who had entered their home.

There, by the front door, stood Blaise.

Draco saw red. He didn't see Blaise's friendly smile. He didn't see the small wave he gave. Pulling back his arm, Draco let it go and his fist connected with Blaise's jaw. He heard the surprised cry of pain before he felt a hand tugging on his wrist. Turning around, he found Hermione behind him. Afraid he might take his anger out on her, his arms dropped to his side and he moved closer to her.

"What the hell, mate?" Blaise demanded, prodding at the reddening skin to make sure it hadn't broken.

But Draco no longer paid him any attention. With Hermione's arms around him and her soothing words whispered in his ear, he tried to calm himself as best he could. Small arms wrapped around his leg before he heard the voice.

"Daddy okay?" Ana asked worriedly.

"Sweetie, can you take Daddy upstairs?" Hermione suggested, her voice even. She unwound her arms from Draco's waist and encouraged him to go with their daughter. He was reluctant to leave, but allowed Ana to lead him to the second floor. "Why are you here?" she demanded only after she heard a door close.

"To see my friends," Blaise replied indignantly, still cupping the side of his face. "Want to do something about this?"

"Want to tell me why Theo knows that you've figured out what happened to my husband?" she retorted. "Want to tell me why you didn't tell me or the Ministry? Or how about Draco? Don't you think he had a right to know?"

"So, you won't be healing me then," he mumbled. Her stance alone was enough to tell him no. "Okay, fine, I figured out what went wrong. I didn't see the point in saying anything though until I figured out how to fix it."

"And?" she inquired.

Sighing heavily, he walked past her and entered the living room. After making himself comfortable on the sofa, he continued. "I don't know anything, Hermione. Believe me, I want his memories to come back just as much as you do. You're not the only one who misses Draco."

"What happened?" she asked, settling herself into the armchair near the sofa.

Blaise laughed mirthlessly. "Bad lacewing flies," he replied. "It was actually Draco who pointed them out to me the other day when he came by."

She nodded, but was unconvinced. From the way Draco told it, Theo implied that Blaise had known all along. "But this is Draco we're talking about," she said, brows furrowed. "He would never use expired ingredients. He used to toss out the milk if it was a day past the expiration date."

"Maybe someone switched them out when he wasn't looking," Blaise suggested with a shrug of his shoulders. "I mean, we keep the ingredients cabinet locked up, but it's not hard to get into. Literally anyone could have done it."

Getting to her feet, Hermione shook her head. "It doesn't explain why he'd use them though," she replied. "Unless someone added them without his knowledge, those lacewing flies never would have made it into his cauldron. So, the real question is who could have done that?"

Shrugging once more, he stood. "Don't know," he said nonchalantly. "Look, if Drake isn't going to talk to me, then I'll just leave. No use sticking around here with only your obtuse accusations for company."

Hermione let him go, anxious to get back to Draco. She expected to find him and Ana in her room, but it was empty. "No, pink, Daddy," she heard across the hall. Pushing the door open slightly, she found father and daughter in the nursery.

"We can't paint it pink, baby," he told her. "Mummy's having a boy. Boys don't like pink."

Ana stood over his shoulder as he popped off the lid on a can of light blue paint. "But what if her a girl?" she asked. "Girls like pink. I like pink."

Dipping the tip of his finger in the paint, he placed the dab on the tip of her nose and laughed. "She's right behind you," he told her. "Ask her yourself if you don't believe me."

The little girl turned, an indignant look in her eyes as she spotted her mother. "Daddy painted me," she huffed, crossing her little arms over her chest. "And I want a girl."

"The paint will wash off," she assured her. "As for the baby, Mummy and Daddy don't get to pick what it'll be. But I think Daddy really wants a boy this time. He wished for you the last time, and his wish came true."

Smiling, Ana turned back to him. "Love me, Daddy?" she asked.

"Forever and ever I do," he promised with a smile of his own. "Why don't you go wash your nose?" She turned to leave, but Hermione stopped her to whisper something in her ear. Ana's grin grew as she ran back to her father and pressed her still wet nose to his cheek. "Hey!" he shouted, laughing as she ran away.

"We need to talk," Hermione said as he advanced on her.

He stopped, all thoughts of retaliation out of his mind. "Blaise?" he asked, receiving a nod in return. "What did he say? Was that punch well deserved?"

"Maybe," she replied with a shrug of her shoulder. She told him what she learned and deduced from her conversation with Blaise. Draco sat on the floor of the nursery with his head in his hands. Hermione lowered herself into the rocking chair near him and smoothed back his hair. "Sweetheart?" she asked.

"I'm okay," he mumbled, muttering it over and over to himself. "He did it. Blaise did this."

She placed her hand over his. "I think he may have."


	15. Chapter 15

Just an update - I finished writing the story last week, so there are five chapters plus an epilogue to come! I'm working on a Hunger Games story too, so please check it out!

* * *

Chapter 15  
"There's no proof," Harry told them. Draco stood up, ready to protest when Harry continued. "I can't arrest Zabini because the two of you _think_ he did it."

"He all but admitted it to Hermione," Draco replied, angry that the Boy Who Lived refused to believe him.

Harry sighed and turned his attention to Hermione. "Did he actually say he did it?" he asked.

Looking between her husband and her best friend, she finally shook her head. "But think about it, Harry," she pleaded. "Who else could have switched the ingredients?"

"Draco could have," he replied. "It's quite possible that it was all just an error on his part. But the two of you are turning this into, forgive the irony, a witch hunt. I'm not arresting Zabini, not without proof. Maybe the two of you should focus more on figuring out how to regain his memories than on pinning the blame on someone."

"Isn't Blaise supposed to be doing that?" Draco inquired facetiously.

Harry rose and kissed Hermione's cheek. "I'll look into it," he promised her. "In the meantime, take my advice. Work on getting his memories back. I miss the old Draco."

"Technically, this is the old Draco," she pointed out. From across the living room, Draco scowled at her and she promptly bade Harry goodbye. "So, what do we do now?"

He stood by the fireplace examining the framed photos that lined the mantle. The first to catch his eye was his wedding photo; just one in a long line of things he didn't remember. "He's not even gonna try," he muttered angrily. "The least he could do is question him, but Potter won't even do that. Does he even care that I don't remember the last six years?"

"Of course he does," Hermione replied, coming up behind him. "But Harry's right. We have no proof. I'd rather see you get your memories back than worry about who's to blame for you losing them to begin with."

Draco turned to face her and placed his hand on her stomach. "I want to remember too," he told her. "I want to remember Ana, _really_ remember her. And you - it still amazes me that we ended up together. If everything I've been told is true, I really loved you. I've never loved anyone before."

"We'll get that back," she assured him, more desperate to believe it than he was. "We're smart enough to figure this out. If you could get the potion recipe and ingredients, maybe that's all we need to reverse the effects."

"What if it doesn't work?" he wondered, wrapping his arms around her to draw her nearer.

Hermione smiled, glad to be back in her husband's arms. "Then we figure out Plan B," she said. "But I think this can work. I'll talk to Harry."

Draco scoffed. "Load of help he's been," he grumbled.

She placed her hand on his cheek, lovingly stroking the stubble beneath her palm. "He has been helping," she pointed out. "None of the Aurors actually assigned to your case have told us anything. Harry can help us. He'll be able to get the ingredients and the recipe we need."

"Fine," he relented. "But you're not helping with this."

"But-" she protested, only to receive his hand over her mouth.

"No," he said adamantly. "Something goes wrong...you get hurt or the baby gets hurt. I won't risk that."

"Then Harry has to help you," she insisted. "He's good at potions. This potion could be more complex than you can handle. A second pair of hands might be necessary."

His sigh was dramatic as he rolled his eyes. "Fine," he said. "Fine, Potter can help. I'll even try to be nice if it'll make you happy."

Leaning forward, Hermione pressed her lips to his. "That _would_ make me happy," she told him with a smile on her face.

Draco stood there, dumbfounded by what he had just experienced. It had been a long time since he had kissed anyone. Even in his 18 year old mind, he knew it had been two years since he'd last been with anyone. As a 24 year old, he knew it had been more than two months.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, pulling away when he said nothing. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she looked away.

"Don't be," he replied. He hooked his index finger under her chin and lifted it so he could look her in the eye. His hand shifted to caress her reddening cheek. For the first time in a month, he began to feel hopeful that he could fall in love with her again.

She pulled away. "I should go check on Ana," she decided. "Give Harry a call. The sooner the two of you get started, the better."

When Hermione was gone, Draco turned back to the fireplace and tossed in a handful of floo powder. "Potter, I need your help," he said the second Harry's head appeared in the flames.

"Tell me what you need me to do," Harry replied with a smile.

Hermione entered the nursery to find Ana curled up in the rocking chair. With only a few more finishing touches, the room would be complete. Ana had taken to sleeping in the rocker, claiming she wanted to be the baby again. Most nights, Ana and Draco would sit in the chair until she fell asleep. Then he would move her into her own bed. But each morning, they would wake to find her there.

"Hi, little lamb," Hermione murmured, smoothing back the little girl's hair. "It's time to wake up."

Ana stirred but continued to sleep. Hermione continued to stroke her hair and gently eased her into waking. When her gray eyes finally opened, she looked warily around the room. "Where is I?" she asked. "Baby here yet, Mama?"

"Not yet," Hermione replied, helping her down from the chair. "Think you'll want to sleep in here when he comes?"

Ana nodded enthusiastically as they walked downstairs. "Be near baby," she said.

"You might think differently when he cries and wakes you up," Hermione pointed out.

Draco collected her when she was nearing the last few steps. "Do babies cry lots, Daddy?" she asked when he picked her up.

He pressed a kiss to her cheek and said, "You didn't, but we might not get so lucky the second time around."

Hermione's foot had just hit the bottom step when she stopped. "How do you know that?" she asked.

He looked at her with wide eyes. "I don't know."


	16. Chapter 16

Another new chapter! A reviewer asked yesterday if I'll be working on another Dramione story, and the answer is yes. I started working on the 3rd chapter of it today while also writing my Hunger Games story (please read?). Once I finish posting this story, I'll start on that one. If I have a title by then. Which I might. Or not. I don't actually know.

* * *

Chapter 16  
While Harry and Draco worked on the memory potion, Hermione pulled Ginny aside to share their recent developments. "He remembered what Ana was like as a baby," she said, her voice hushed for fear that someone else might overhear.

"Just out of the blue?" Ginny asked. "And you don't think he was making it up?"

Hermione shook her head. "He seemed more surprised by it than I did," she replied. "We just can't seem to figure out what triggered it."

Ginny took a seat at her kitchen table and propped her chin upon her hand, deep in thought. "Well, what's changed between the two of you?" she wondered. "He seems friendlier lately. And did my eyes deceive me or was his arm around your waist?"

"It was," Hermione confirmed with a slight blush. "He's slowly becoming more affectionate lately. It almost reminds me of when we first became friends. Remember the time he said he was holding my hand because there was a spider on it and he was just brushing it away? At least now he's not resorting to silly excuses."

"So, what else has he remembered?" Ginny asked, excited by the turn Draco had taken.

"Not much," Hermione replied with a shrug. "He did ask me what happened to her pink blanket. Remember the one Molly knitted for her as a receiving blanket?"

The redhead nodded. "I remember it," she said. "Ana managed to unravel it somehow, right?"

"Her first bit of magic," Hermione recalled fondly. "Draco asked about it this morning."

The sound of little feet running put a brief end to the conversation. "Mama, Daddy no play with us," James complained.

"Him helping my daddy," Ana yelled at him. Then she turned to her mother, her expression softening . "I right, Mama?" she asked.

"Sorry, buddy," Hermione said to James. "Daddy and Uncle Draco are busy working. I think you two will just have to keep each other entertained today."

Ana shook her head as she glared at James. "Wanna stay with you," she insisted, and to prove it, she attempted to climb onto her mother's lap. "Read me, Mama?"

"Only if James can listen too," Hermione replied, sending her off to get a book. She returned minutes later with Sleeping Beauty. Nestled on her mother's lap and James on Ginny's, Hermione opened the book and began to read. "Once upon a time..."

When she reached "And they lived happily ever after" Ana took the book and closed it before placing it on the table. Turning, she looked up at her mother and asked, "Did you kiss Daddy awake?"

"No, sweetie, I didn't," Hermione told her.

"But that's what the prince did, and her woke up. Like magic."

"It's just a story, Ana," Ginny said. "Magic doesn't really work like that."

Hermione picked up the book again and flipped to the end. "What if it did?" she wondered, rereading the scene when the handsome prince arrives with a kiss to awaken Sleeping Beauty.

"Come on, Mione. You don't really believe in true love's kiss, do you?" Ginny asked.

"Think about it, Gin," she replied. "We start getting close again, and he remembers things. What if the magic in story books is real? They all say there's no greater magic than true love's kiss."

"And have you had that kiss yet?"

Hermione shook her head. "His memories have all been of Ana," she recalled. "We both know how much he loves her. Maybe it doesn't have to be romantic love for the kiss to work."

Ginny put James back on feet and rose from her chair. "You sound a little bit crazy," she said with a laugh.

Hermione copied her actions, but exited the kitchen instead. Harry had set up a makeshift workspace on the top floor of Grimmauld Place. There, he and Draco worked prodigiously on the potion that could restore her husband's memories. Without knocking, she entered the room to find both men hunched over cauldrons and texts.

"What do you know about fairy tales?" she asked.

Harry looked up. "They're made up stories designed to amuse children," he said.

"But remember the story about the Deathly Hallows?" she asked. "There was some truth to it, Harry. You had all three, making you the Master of Death."

"Where are you going with this, Hermione?" Harry wondered.

"There are stories in Beedle the Bard about the magic behind true love's kiss," she explained. "What if it's real? What if it really can break any spell?"

Draco put down the jar he had in his hand and turned his full attention to her. "I've never heard of it happening," he said. "It doesn't mean it might not be true though."

Hermione rounded the table and took hold of Draco's hand. "You've kissed Ana because you love her, and then you started to remember things about her," she said, clinging to the hope that fairy tale magic could fix their lives. "What's to say that wouldn't work again?"

"So you want me to fall in love with and kiss everyone I know?" he asked, eyebrows raised skeptically. She shook her head, frustrated that she couldn't seem to get her point across. "Besides, I didn't remember anything about her until you kissed me."

"Just her," Harry interjected. "You might only need to fall in love with her."

Draco looked at her guiltily. "But...I mean," he stuttered as his hand slipped from hers.

"I understand that you don't love me," she told him, her voice quiet enough to keep this part of the conversation between them. "But I love you, and maybe that's enough."

He reclaimed her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I don't want you to get your hopes up about this," he said. "If it doesn't work, I'm worried about it upsetting you."

"Don't be," she replied. Her free hand stroked his cheek. "I know it's crazy and probably won't work. I just like having options."

"I think you just want to kiss me, Granger," he teased with a smile on his lips and playfulness in his voice.

She pinched his cheek as she pulled her other hand out of his. "That's Malfoy to you," she retorted, leaving them to their work.


	17. Chapter 17

Two hour meeting. Discussions about fonts. Can someone find me a rich husband so I never have to work again?

* * *

Chapter 17  
"Ana's asleep," Draco reported, entering the master bedroom as Hermione folded laundry. "She's informed me that there are no longer any monsters hiding in her closet, so I should go back to bed with you. She's too perceptive. Must get that from me."

Hermione added a pair of socks to the growing pile of Draco's clean clothes. "If only I had married someone dumb and ugly," she said wistfully.

"Or you could tell her that men don't like smart girls," he added.

She smiled as she pulled the last shirt from the laundry basket. "I used to think that of you," she admitted. "In my defense you did pal around Pansy Parkinson a lot."

Groaning he sat down on the bed and leaned back against the pillows. "Now, why couldn't I have forgotten that part of my life?" he wondered.

Rising from the bed, Hermione began to put away the laundry, leaving Ana's small pile for the morning. "I'm sorry if I sounded like a lunatic earlier today," she said, closing the last drawer.

He beckoned her back to the bed, and when she sat down on her side, he said, "I never thought that anything in those stories might be real. I don't want to know the real life repercussions of Babbity-Rabbity. But your theory might be right. Probably more pleasant than taking a potion anyhow."

"Yeah, right," she agreed.

He gave her arm a gentle tug, drawing her closer so she laid down beside him. His arm around her shoulders and her head rested on his chest, he released a contented sigh. "So, do you think it's old age or was potion making always this exhausting?" he asked.

"Old age," she decided, her voice cracking despite her best attempts to stop it.

He looked down and smoothed away the hair that draped across her cheek. "What's wrong?" he asked, finding his fingers wet where they touched her skin.

"This," she said tearfully. "It feels like how it used to be, but I know it's not."

He tightened his hold on her. "We'll get back there," he promised. "It's supposed to take a month to brew, but once it's finished, my memories will be back."

"Just in time for the baby," she added. "What if it doesn't work?"

He caressed her cheek, still wet with tears. "I fell in love with you once, didn't I?" he asked. "I don't see why I won't be able to again."

"What if it isn't the same?" she wondered.

Draco shrugged. "I don't know," he admitted. "Different might not be a bad thing though. I just want us to feel like a family, and I think we're getting there."

She nodded her head in agreement and tried to let go of the tension she felt in her stiff body. His hand lovingly stroked her stomach, and she knew that even if he never loved her again, their children would know the unconditional love of their father.

Beside her, Draco shifted and she looked up in alarm. "Don't worry, I'm just turning off the light," he said softly.

"Does that mean you're leaving?" she asked, wondering if he would see it as desperate if she clung to his shirt.

"Do you want me to?"

"No," she replied.

He unwound himself from her and pulled a blanket up from the foot of the bed to cover them. After shutting off the light, he settled back down beside her and closed his eyes. "This feels right," he whispered, hoping that if she were asleep his words wouldn't disturb her.

Hermione pressed her lips to his jaw. "I agree," she murmured.

Draco woke the next morning with a strange pressure on his chest. Cracking one eye open, he found Ana sitting on him, a smile lighting up her face. "What are you doing, Buttercup?" he asked her, glancing over to find Hermione still asleep.

"Waking you," she replied with a giggle.

"Mission accomplished," he mumbled, groaning when he caught sight of the alarm clock. It was only just past six in the morning. "Will you cuddle with me? Mummy's got one arm, but the other one is just begging to hold you too."

She laid down on his chest and sighed. "I like this, Daddy," she said softly.

"Me too," he agreed, closing his eyes once more.

"No more talking," Hermione mumbled. Rolling over, she buried her face in his shoulder and exhaled.

He reopened his eyes and looked down at her. "Did we wake you?" he asked.

"Yes," came her muffled reply.

"Did you sleep okay until we woke you?" he inquired, stroking her back.

Her eyes opened then and she looked up at him. "Better than I've slept in a while," she confessed.

"I had a dream about my mother last night," he told her. "She looked healthy and happy. I think Ana got her smile. She didn't say much, but just before I felt myself starting to wake up, she asked if I was happy."

"What did you say, Daddy?" Ana asked.

Draco smiled and kissed Hermione's forehead. "I told her I can't remember the last time I was this happy," he replied.

"I miss her," Hermione said sadly. "She was so good to me when we started dating. After you proposed, she insisted that I call her Mum."

A soft chuckle passed his lips. "Wow, even I didn't get to call her that," he joked. "Clearly, she liked you better."

Sitting up, Hermione shook her head. "Your mother loved you more than anything, Draco," she told him. "She told me all the time when I'd visit her. Just hours and hours she'd spend telling me stories about you and how wonderful you were."

His arms wrapped tighter around Ana. "Can we talk more about this later?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as it neared breaking.

Leaning over, she pushed back his hair and kissed his forehead. "Of course," she promised. "I think I'll get started on breakfast. You two have a bit of a lie-in. I'll call you when it's ready."

Still holding his daughter, Draco rolled over so they were now side by side. "You love me?" he asked her.

"Always and always, Daddy," she replied. "You sad, Daddy?"

He shook his head and attempted to smile. "No, Buttercup," he told her. "I just miss my mum. It's been a long time since I've seen her."

"Why you no see her?" she wondered.

Draco sighed, searching for the best way to explain death to a two year-old. "It's complicated, sweetie," he said. "She had to go away, and she can't come back."

Before she could demand further explanation, Draco heard a worried Hermione yell his name.


	18. Chapter 18

I couldn't let the weekend go by without another post, especially since the last one ended on a cliffhanger. One of my favorite reviews from the last chapter was when someone wrote "you would end it there." You all know me so well! Another reviewer, in reference to my author's note, asked why fonts required a 2 hour meeting. Companies are getting sued for using fonts that they don't have a license for. Which...did anyone else know that fonts required a license? Because until now, I didn't.

* * *

Chapter 18  
He grabbed Hermione's wand from the nightstand and instructed Ana not to leave the room. Then, he ran down to the kitchen to find Blaise waiting for him. The kitchen table separated Hermione and Blaise, and she glanced at her husband fearfully when she saw him raise her wand. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.

Blaise's hands rose in the air to show that he was unarmed. "To talk," he said, trying his best to maintain a calm demeanor. "I need you to understand."

"Understand what?" Draco asked, advancing on him.

Blaise took a step back. "Why what happened to you happened."

"Hermione, call Harry. I'd like him to be here for this," Draco said, never taking his eyes off of his former friend. She did as he asked, and once she was out of the kitchen, Draco directed him to the nearest chair. Hermione returned minutes later with Harry in tow. "Good, now we're all here. Talk."

Blaise stared at the group assembled before him. Harry too had his wand trained on him as Hermione attempted to lower Draco's arm. "Start from the beginning," Harry instructed.

"It was just one memory I wanted to erase," Blaise started, staring down at his hands. "When my mother died I inherited her debt, and there was a lot of it. So much, in fact, that it wiped out all of our accounts. It's why I took that Ministry job; I needed the money. And when I found that I could sell certain potions for a good profit, I started doing that too."

"On Ministry time?" Harry asked.

Blaise nodded. "I had an unlimited supply of ingredients that I wouldn't have been able to afford on my own," he explained. "Anyhow, Draco caught me, and said he'd have to turn me in. He went on and on about how he would be blamed if someone else discovered my actions. Being a former Death Eater and all, I guess he assumed people would think he was doing it."

Draco tried to shake Hermione off his arm as he attempted to raise her wand once more. "So you sabotaged my work?" he yelled angrily. "I was in a coma for a month, I can't remember most of the last six years of my life, I've accused my wife of horrible things, and all because you were afraid I would report you?"

Harry shook his head. "You realize this is a far greater offense than black market potion making," he stated. "That would have earned you a month of probation and probably a fine since it would have been your first offense. You could have killed Draco, you realize. The Wizengamot could find you guilty of attempted murder. That carries a prison sentence."

"I was desperate," Blaise argued. "I thought it would just erase that memory, not all of them."

"And using the charm never crossed your mind?" Hermione inquired as she glared at the man she had once considered a friend.

"It could be traced back to him," Draco said. "This way, he makes it look like I messed up. No one ever would have suspected him."

Harry smirked. "Except for you," he added. Draco replied with a terse nod. "Well, the only thing to do now is take you into custody," he said to Blaise. He muttered a quick spell, whispered a message, and sent his Patronus off to the Auror office. Then he took Blaise by the arm and cuffed them behind his back. "I'll talk to the two of you later," he said as he passed Draco and Hermione.

"Wait," Draco said, stopping them in their tracks. "It had nothing to do with Hermione? Nothing to do with breaking us up?"

Blaise shook his head. "I never stood a chance with her," he replied.

Harry led him out. The fireplace in the living room roared as they disappeared in the green flames. "It doesn't change anything," Draco said sadly as he sat down at the table. "Did you know about his financial situation?"

Hermione shook her head and sat down next to him. "He never said anything to me about it," she replied. She took his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "I know it doesn't change much, but at least we know what happened."

"I want Ana to have a new godfather," he decided. "I know Blaise loves her, but I don't want him around this family ever again. Do you think we can do that? Harry or Theo, maybe."

She readily agreed, and promised that they could make the decision at a later time. "Ya know, I'm came down here to make to breakfast, but didn't get much further than pulling out a bowl," she commented. "Are you hungry? You really should eat something."

"I'm fine," he whispered, refusing to let go of her hand.

"Where's Ana?" she asked, more concerned about his turn in mood. "Draco?"

"I thought you were hurt," he replied, his voice cracking as he allowed his emotions to take over. "I told her to stay upstairs because I was afraid that if you were hurt...I didn't want her to see it."

Leaning forward, her free hand caressed his cheek. "I'm okay," she assured him. "A bit hungry maybe, but I'm okay."

"Why did he have to come now?" Draco wondered. "Things were finally starting to feel right."

The sweeping of her thumb across his skin managed the collect the tears that fell down his left cheek. "Maybe he was starting to feel guilty," she guessed. "You lost your memories and he lost his best friend."

"Guilt," Draco muttered with a mirthless laugh. "You honestly think he feels guilty about what he's done? He let me go on for three months without a clue in the world what happened to me. Guilty people don't do that. _Friends_ don't do that."

There was no disagreeing with him, so she sat silently as she waited for him to finally relinquish her hand. He looked far away, puzzling through all he had learned so early in the morning. "Sweetheart?" she said softly. Draco looked at her, his eyes wide as if seeing her for the first time. "I think Ana needs you."

He nodded, stood, but never let go of her hand. She, too, rose. "Wait," he said, pulling her close. His free hand cupped her cheek, drawing her closer until their lips touched. It was a soft, gentle kiss, but there was no hesitancy to it. When he pulled away, he whispered, "Thank you" before he let go of her and left the kitchen.

"For what?" she wondered aloud, but there was no one there to answer her.


	19. Chapter 19

Only two chapters left after this! I think tomorrow I'll begin posting the other story I've been working on. Also, for those of you who are interested, I finished posting _The Victors' Return._

* * *

Chapter 19  
Their sleeping arrangement had been tentative at first. Oftentimes, Draco fell asleep in their bed after a late night of talking or helping Hermione with the laundry. Some nights, he returned to the sofa when a particularly bad nightmare plagued him. Most nights, though, he climbed into bed fresh from the shower and wrapped his arms around his wife. Before whispering good night, he would kiss her.

He often awoke earlier than she, and watched her as she slept. Around her neck, she still wore his wedding ring, and he fingered it gently. A brief flash passed before his eyes, and he shut them tightly to hold onto it. But all he saw was a brief glimpse of Hermione in a white dress as she walked down the aisle. It was simple and elegant, and instead of a veil, a band of small white flowers was woven into her hair. She smiled at him just as the vision ended. Opening his eyes, he saw that Hermione was awake and smiling at him.

"Morning," she said softly.

"You seemed restless last night," he commented, tucking a curl behind her ear. "Did you get much sleep?"

She shrugged. "A bit," she said through a yawn. "He was kicking a lot last night."

His hand lovingly stroked her stomach. "You still think it'll be a boy?" he wondered.

"Doubting your ability to guess the genders of our children?" she inquired with a very Malfoy-like smirk on her lips.

"Hardly," he scoffed. "When have I ever been wrong? About anything."

Laughing, she rolled onto her left side so her back was to him. Her shoulders shook with mirth and tears began to form in her eyes. Getting her giggles under control, she turned back to him and said, "I can think of...ten times just off the top of my head when you've been wrong."

"Prove it," he challenged, laughing along with her.

"The time you suggested that Ana's diaper didn't really need to be changed every time she soiled it," she said.

Rolling his eyes, he replied, "Pick something I can actually remember."

She seemed deep in thought, staring off to a space beyond their bed. She wracked her brain for a memory they shared. Finally, she said, "You once said you were a better Seeker than Harry. And we both know just how often he proved you wrong."

"Fine," he replied. "I'll give you that one. Now can we stop listing all the horrible things about me?"

Her hand smoothed over his fabric covered chest. "It's not a horrible thing," she told him. "You were just a bit...self-confident. Harry wasn't much better though. Six years of bragging about being the greatest Seeker Hogwarts had ever seen. He was a nightmare after every win."

Draco chuckled. "You weren't much better, as I recall," he said with a grin.

"Yes, me - Hogwarts' Quidditch champion," she retorted as she rolled her eyes.

"I meant with your need to prove that you were smarter than the rest of us," he replied. "You never really needed to. We all knew you were the best in the class. Or maybe you weren't showing off. Maybe you just wanted us to notice you."

Hermione tried to pull back, but his arms held her close. Instead, she rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. "You noticed, but never in a good way," she muttered.

Sitting up, he leaned over her and kissed her softly. "I notice now," he told her. "And it's definitely in a good way."

She caressed his cheek. "I wish you remembered more," she said sadly.

"Me too," he agreed. "Some things are coming back though. Little things like where you keep that gold necklace that belongs to your mother. I don't think I've seen it since I woke up, but I know that you keep it wrapped in tissue paper at the bottom of your jewelry box. I also know that you have a brooch shaped like a kitten that your grandmother gave you when you were five, and you once said you'd give it to Ana on her fifth birthday. But I wish I could remember the bigger stuff."

"Those aren't unimportant things," she assured him. "And you're right, I haven't told you about either of them since you came home. It's a good sign, sweetheart, a really good sign."

He laid back down beside her, and Hermione turned to face him. "But what if I only ever remember these little things?" he wondered.

"One more week and the potion will be completed," she said, trying to sound hopeful. "Everything will come back to you then."

"I just want it to come back before this little guy gets here," he replied. His hand skimmed over her stomach and he felt his baby kick. Even after months of being home, he was still awed by the life inside of her. "Did you ever say that you'd never have kids?"

"I did," she replied. "I first decided after fourth year when Voldemort returned. I swore I would never bring children into a world as corrupt as ours was. Even after it ended, I was still afraid that it could happen again."

"You told me that a few months after we became friends," he realized. He sat up with a puzzled look on his face as he tried to piece together the memory. "No, just after we started dating. We were in the bookshop, and they had a huge display of pregnancy books. And you looked at it and declared that you would never have children. What changed your mind?"

Hermione sat up beside him and pulled his arm back around her. "You," she replied simply. "Us being together, things changed in our world. It was more peaceful. People were more accepting of relationships like ours."

"That's what Blaise meant when he said our marriage changed the wizarding world," Draco interjected.

She nodded. "After you proposed, you told me you wanted a family," she continued. "Then you told me again how badly you wanted kids after we got married. It wasn't until our first anniversary that I gave in to trying. It was the day the last of the Death Eaters were caught."

Turning to her, Draco reached out and touched the ring hanging from her neck once more. She reached around and unhooked the clasp. He let go to allow her to slip it off the chain. Then she took his left hand and pushed the ring onto his finger. "Do you think you could happy with me for the rest of your life?" she asked.

He leaned forward to kiss her. "That's another thing I was wrong about. Saying I'd never marry someone like you," he said, before deepening the kiss.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20  
The potion was ready.

And so was the baby.

Early that morning, he had awoken to the feel of something warm and wet against his legs. Jumping out of bed, he had startled Hermione awake. Not a word passed between them, but she knew something was amiss. Slowly, she moved away from the wet spot and climbed out of bed. She calmly went about stripping the sheets from the bed while Draco stood a few feet away.

"Should we be getting to the hospital?" he asked in a panic stricken voice.

"We have time," she replied. "Ana should be up now. Why don't you get her ready for the day."

"But...you...your water," he stuttered.

She laughed softly and placed a kiss on his cheek as she passed with the dirty laundry. "We have time," she said again. "The contractions are still far enough apart. Isn't today the day your memory potion should be ready? You should give Harry a call."

He stilled her with a hand on her arm. "How can you be so calm about this?" he wondered.

"Because I know what to expect this time around," was her reply.

Letting go of her, Draco sighed and sat down on the mattress. "We panicked when you were pregnant with Ana and your water broke," he remembered. "The second it happened, we rushed to St. Mungo's. It was a long labor, thirteen hours or so. I was afraid that something was wrong, like she was stuck, and that's why she wasn't coming out. But really we just got there too early."

Putting the laundry down by the door, she joined him at the foot of the bed and took his hand. "Nothing will go wrong," she told him.

Draco shook his head as he recalled another moment from their past. "There was another baby," he said thoughtfully. "After Ana. You...we lost it."

Hermione nodded, confirming his suspicion as she blinked away the tears that clouded her vision. She placed his hand on her stomach and replied, "This one is a keeper though. He's not going anywhere, and he's all ours."

"So, then, how long are we going to sit here and wait?" he asked, wrapping his arm around her.

"Soon," she promised, resting her head on his shoulder as the bedroom door opened.

Ana timidly approached and stood in front of her father. "You had an accident too?" she asked sheepishly, looking at the unmade bed. Draco chuckled while Hermione groaned, and he let go of his wife to tend to their daughter.

"I'm cleaning her up, getting her dressed, and then we're going to the hospital," he informed her, his tone making it clear that he was not joking.

"Mama sick?" Ana asked worriedly as she was carried from the master bedroom.

Draco smiled and shook his head. "No, but I think your little brother will be coming today," he replied.

"No brother, Daddy. Sister," the little girl stated emphatically.

Hermione laughed as the conversation continued. Gathering up the laundry once more, she took it downstairs to wash. Two contractions had hit as she made her way from the bedroom to the laundry room and set the machine to wash. Draco had hurriedly cleaned and dressed Ana, anxious to be by his wife's side. She managed to make a small breakfast for the little girl. All the while, Draco hounded her to sit, let him help, or go to the hospital. She refused him at every turn, insisting that they still had plenty of time.

But as the contractions came closer and closer together, Draco decided they could wait no longer. Holding Ana with one arm, he wrapped the other around Hermione and Apparated his small family to St. Mungo's. Letting go of his wife, he hurried to the nearest reception desk to check her in, and soon they were in a private labor room.

"You never called Harry," Hermione said, frowning as she was forced into the bed before another contraction hit.

"That's really not important right now," Draco said with a chuckle. "Though someone should look after Ana." He left Ana in the room, giving the little girl instructions not to let her mother leave.

"Mama, you scared?" Ana asked, seated on the bed by her mother's legs.

Hermione offered her a brave smile and shook her head. "No, but I am excited," she replied. "Are you?"

The little girl shrugged, eyes focused on the door as she awaited her father's return. "No like this place," she said softly. "This where Daddy lived?"

"Same place, different floor," she was told. "You know Daddy's okay, right?"

Ana nodded halfheartedly. "Him still love us," she said resolutely.

"Absolutely, he does," Hermione replied with a wide smile as the door opened.

Draco strode in and stood beside the bed. "Mrs. Weasley said she'll take Ana," he announced. "And she said she'd send Harry over as soon as she got a hold of him."

Hermione nodded and they sat in silence until Molly Weasley arrived to pick up Ana. The older woman wept openly, wishing the young couple luck, and promised to take good care of their little girl. Despite attempts to stay longer, a Healer quickly ushered them from the room to attend to her patient. Determining it would still be some time before Hermione delivered, she promised to come back in half an hour, leaving the couple alone.

"Harry dropped off the potion while the healer was in with you," Draco told her as he held her hand. When she said nothing, he asked, "Are you alright?"

Tears clouded her eyes as she looked up at her husband. "I can't do this," she whispered.

"What?" Draco asked with a small laugh. She gripped his hand tightly as panic set in. "Of course you can do this, love. You've done it once already, and look at how wonderfully that turned out. There's no doubt in my mind that you can do this, Hermione."

"What if the potion doesn't work?" she asked. "After the accident, I resigned myself to raising them alone. I thought you'd either never wake up, or when you did and couldn't remember us, that you'd leave. Even with some of your memories returning, I couldn't help but think that you might..."

Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to hers. "Hermione, I'm not going anywhere," he vowed. "I love you too much."

She pulled him close again and kissed him with all the love and passion she could muster. "I love you," she replied through her tears.

Draco handed her the vial that contained a purple liquid. "Hermione, I remember," he said. "I remember it all."


	21. Epilogue

So, I thought I'd post the final chapter now, and then in the afternoon post the first chapter of my new story. Thanks to everyone for reading and liking my story!

* * *

Epilogue  
"Sebastian!" Draco yelled as the toddler crawled quickly away from his room.

Harry moved aside the gate that guarded the top of the stairs and picked up the giggling little boy. "Potty!" the spirited eleven-month old exclaimed.

Draco stifled a laugh. "I did not teach him that," he swore.

The raven haired man smirked. "You also didn't teach him that he needs to wear pants when going out," he retorted, tickling the boy who looked exactly like his father. "Seb, what do you say we get you dressed?"

"Mama?" he asked, looking from his godfather to his father.

Draco took him from Harry's arms and carried him back to the nursery. "And Ana too," he promised. Their vow renewal was only an hour away, and Draco feared he wouldn't make it on time.

A hand landed on his shoulder. "Go get dressed," Harry said. "I'll get Seb ready. Hermione will kill you if you're late. And I'm pretty sure she won't let you claim that you didn't remember."

He shot his friend a relieved smile and left the nursery as Harry took over. Twenty minutes later, the trio left for the ceremony. His memories had returned the day his son was born, and he had a feeling his wife's "true love's kiss" theory had something to do with it. After Sebastian's birth, as Hermione held her newborn son, Draco proposed. The couple spent months planning their renewal ceremony, insisting they do it themselves despite the number of times Molly Weasley offered to help.

And now, the day had arrived. His stomach felt alive with a thousand tiny butterflies, but he wasn't nervous. As the minutes wound down, he grew more and more excited. Theo and Harry stood by his side holding Ana and Sebastian respectively. Ana scowled, kicking Theo as she complained about her shoes.

"Drake, do something about your daughter before the entire right side of my body is bruised," he complained.

The blond laughed and removed Ana's shoes. "Some godfather you are," he remarked, handing him the small, white Mary Jane's.

Theo slipped them into his back pocket and frowned at his best friend. "Lucky me," he replied before turning his attention to the little girl in his arms. "You're lucky I love you, Nugget."

Ana giggled and ceased her kicking. "No, you're my Nugget," she responded, kissing his cheek. Draco cleared his throat, and she turned her head to face her father. He flashed her a look of warning, letting her know there was something else she needed to say. "Sorry, Uncle Theo, for kicking you."

Soft music began to play as Robert Granger led Hermione to the flowered arch under which he stood with the minister who would perform the ceremony. Robert kissed Hermione's cheek and placed her hand in Draco's. She smiled lovingly, first at her newly returned parents, then her children, and finally her husband.

"You're beautiful," Draco whispered, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

"You said the same thing to me the first time we got married," she replied.

Draco's smile grew. "I know."

"Welcome," the minister started, "to family, to friends, to all those who have loved and stood by the happy couple. Marriage is a sacred bond in our world, one not meant to be taken lightly. Today, Draco and Hermione stand before you to re-pledge themselves to one another for eternity.

"Draco, will you continue to love, honor, and cherish Hermione, your wife, until the end of your days?" the minister asked, holding his hand over their joined hands. "Do you promise to remain faithful to both your wife and the family that has been the product of your love for one another?"

"I will," he replied.

The same was asked of Hermione, and through tears of happiness, she replied, "I will."

Theo handed Draco two simple silver bands. He kept one and handed the other to Hermione. "These rings are a symbol of your recommitment to one another," the minister continued. "Draco and Hermione, please place the ring on your spouse's finger." They did as they were told, placing them on their right hands. The minister whispered an incantation over them and they glowed with a vibrant gold light.

"Friends and family, it is my honor to once more present to you Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy," the minister exclaimed.

The happy couple kissed and made their way back up the aisle. Theo and Harry followed and returned the children to their parents before finding their own spouses. "Pretty," Sebastian said, playing with the simple pearl necklace that hung around his mother's neck.

Hermione fingered the delicate pearl and looked at Draco expectantly. "It belonged to my mother," he said. "My father gave it to her as a wedding gift, and she wore it the day they married. Then when Mummy and I got married, my mum gave it to her. And one day, Miss Ana, you'll wear it too."

Hermione's parents and Molly and Arthur Weasley joined the family while the other guests moved to the reception tent. Molly took Sebastian from her arms so she could hug her mother. "I'm so happy we could be here," she murmured, holding tightly to her daughter who looked so much like her.

"I"m sorry it took so long to reverse your memories," Hermione said, looking back and forth between her parents. "If it hadn't been for Draco-"

"You would have found another way," he insisted, placing a hand on her lower back. "I'm just happy that it worked."

Helen touched his arm and conveyed her gratitude for his hard work. Robert wrapped his arm around his wife's shoulder and smiled. "You know, Hermione often talked about you when the two of you were in school," he commented. "Horrible things about the mean little boy who teased her and called her names. I had a feeling the two of you would end up together some day."

"Funny, so did my mother," Draco replied. "Something about always been mean to the people you really like."

Hermione smirked. "You must have really liked me," she teased.

Draco shook his head. "No, you - I love."

The End


End file.
